Save Me
by dress up romance xx
Summary: NONMAGIC! After his parent’s death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drugaddicted uncle sells him to a child sexring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being so
1. PROLOUGE

_**Save Me**_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: I'm looking for a beta reader! Are you interested? Leave me a review and we can work that out! Now, about my story, if you enjoy it REVIEW IT! If there are some things you think I can work on, leave some NICE suggestions! Enjoy.

**PROLOUGE**

Rain beat down upon the windows of the old Honda Civic as it sped down the road, trying to make it home before it got too dark. James steered through the darkness, praying the rain would die down. His prayers went unheard as the rain poured faster and faster obscuring his vision of the road. Darkness settled around the car as they rocketed down the road. Lily bit her tongue, clutching the arms of her seat out of fear. Her stomach was churning endlessly, fearing the worst. Her husbands reckless driving had her on wits end. She turned her head towards her husband, letting out a whimper of fear. James turned to her, smiling lightly at her. Her stomach did not settle though, fear continued to eat away at her. Their son, Harry, slept silently in the back of the car, unaware of the grave danger they were in. Trying to wish away her fears, Lily turned to her slumbering baby, smiling at how angelic he looked. Reaching out her hand, she stroked his cheek, forgetting their terrible predicament and focusing solely on her only son; her little angel.

"Lily!" But it was too late. As she began to spin around, Lily was blinded by headlights and in that moment she knew why he husband cried her name. _They were going to die_.

The car had been headed straight off a bridge, only a small piece of road and bridge left before them. James slammed on the brakes, throwing the baby seat from the car and onto the street before them. In his last seconds of control, James swerved out of the way and directly into an oncoming car. The crash exploded throughout the night, bursting into a fiery mass of metal, car parts, and human flesh. Cars braked all around the hysteria, people getting out the cars to see what happened. A pregnant woman stumbled upon the crying baby, calling 911 at once. Two men tried to pull Lily's screeching body from the car but failed. James and Lily were already dead.

---

_Bloody Child Services! We don't want the damn boy._ Vernon Dursley paced about his living room, hands behind his back as he thought to himself. _We already have too many mouths to feed! How am I supposed to buy my drugs with him here? I can't waste money on that…thing!_ Petunia rested a comforting hand on her husbands shoulder, fully understanding what he was thinking. She had heavy bags under her bland green eyes. Her usually vibrant skin was paled with random red blotches all over. Ever since her sister Lily had died, she'd gone back to using drugs to keep herself from feeling any emotions over the death. Having Lily's son Harry there was too much for her. She felt him as an ugly reminder of her sister. They needed to get rid of him and fast. They had their own son to worry about; they didn't need another child to care about. One child was already too much for them.

Vernon didn't care that Lily died, he was just happy to freely use drugs in his home now that his wife was using as well. Shaking his head, Vernon stepped away from his wife, searching the room for his blunt. He needed to clear his mind. He had to think of a way to get rid of the damned boy. "Petunia?"

"Hmm?" she shut her eyes as the high settled into her body. Dragging all her pain away and bringing her to a new place: a happier place. To a place where she was younger, a place where her sister loved and cared about her. The drugs brought her back to a time when he sister was proud of her; proud to call Petunia her little sister. It brought her to a place far away from the death of her only sister.

"I need something…now!" he knew she'd know what he meant and smiled when she handed the blunt over to him. Pulling out his lighter, he lit it up and took a long drag of it, letting out the smoke in one long breath. Clearing his mind, he settled back into a chair, the faint cry of their son fading from his mind. Petunia settled into the couch beside his chair, looking at him through hooded eyes.

It hit him in one swift motion. He knew exactly how he could get rid of Harry and he'd also get something out of it. One of the drug dealers he'd gone to was involved in a child sex ring. He could trade Harry in for drugs and wouldn't ever have to deal with the bloody child, ever again. "I've got it…I've got it!"

"You've got what…" Petunia lied down in the chair, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'll sell him…tomorrow…and get us more…goods!" Vernon's voice faded in and out as Petunia focused solely on the ceiling as it began to spin before her eyes. Her stomach clenched together in a tight knot and instantly she sat up, looking around for food. Noticing some open chips on the table before her, she snatched them up and ate the entire package.

"Okay…tomorrow."

---

Tom Riddle held the small infant in his arms, brushing back the miniscule amount of hair the boy had to get a good look at his face. _The face of an angel_, he thought to himself. The infant smiled at him, his little emerald eyes beaming with pure obliviation. Tom lifted the baby up and rested him against his shoulder, letting the baby look behind him. Tom focused on the fat man and slim woman standing before him. They were dressed in ratty old clothes, their skin and hair dirty from lack of cleansing. _Pathetic attempts at humanity._ Smiling he nodded his head at them. The woman clapped her hands together, her eyes swelling with tears. She turned to her husband, hugging him tightly. The bulky man smiled crookedly at Tom, nodding his head out of happiness. Turning from Tom for a moment, he searched through his back pocket and pulled out a leather pouch.

"How much do we get?" Vernon asked, opening up his pouch, waiting for Tom to answer him. _Why am I doing this,_ Tom thought about calling off their trade. He was still young; he could get out of this nasty business and have a real life. He couldn't get himself mixed up in any more of this shit. He'd already paid off his debts from high school; he didn't need to keep dealing drugs anymore. _It's not that easy, you know that. Don't bother trying to fool yourself,_ he cursed his subconscious for being right. It wasn't that easy to just _get out_ of the drug business. He had to go through with this deal.

"4 kilo's of cocaine and I can give you about 60 pills of E?" He offered. The deal was ridiculously unfair, of course the better side of the deal being in his favor. But it didn't matter, he knew the Dursley's were idiots and would go for the bet easily.

"Great…guess this pouch wont be any help…huh?" Vernon laughed coolly before putting it back into his pocket. When he turned around, Tom got a good look at his face. His eyes were blood-shot and he had big, reddish bags underneath them; he was high. _Just like that slime, coming to a dealing already high._" Uh…are we going to bring it home now or will you deliver it?"

"I will have the kilos delivered, but the E you can take now." Remembering that the child was still on his shoulder, he lifted the baby back to chest level to look into his eyes. The infant once again smiled up at him, pulling his tiny toe into his mouth. _Adorable._ Placing the baby back into the carrier, he picked up his briefcase. Rapidly, he unlocked it and pulled out a package. "Here, now get!"

Petunia grabbed the package and smiled up at her husband. She winked at Tom once before scurrying off, Vernon following behind. "Don't think of bringing another baby to me! This is the only one I'll ever except as payment!" Shutting his briefcase, he strapped the baby securely into his carrier, and then lifted the infant off the pavement. He looked around him, making sure he was the only one left under the bridge. Of all the places he'd ever dealt, he hated the bridge the most. Homeless people lived there at night, so their cardboard boxes and old broken office chairs littered the place. Empty food wrappers floated across the ground as the wind blew them. The place smelt of piss, vomit, and alcohol. The water lapping up against the grassy shore smelt of dead fish and old cabbage. All together, every time Tom had ever held a dealing under the bridge, he felt like he was going to vomit up his innards.

Dusting off his Armani suit, he made his way back to his car. He'd parked two blocks away, hoping no one would know what he was doing. He cursed himself for doing so now; he just wanted to be back at his penthouse. He wanted some alone time with the baby before his boss asked for him. He'd never had a child before and probably would never get to father one, so this was his only chance at fatherhood. He wanted to treasure it for as long as he could. _And Tom knew exactly how long that would be; not long enough._

_---_

Marcus Hopkins lit a cigarette, fully ignoring the whimpering man before him. He strode across the room, opening the window up and leaning into the window sill. Taking a puff of his cigarette, he let his gaze fall upon Tom Riddle. The 25 year old had come to him with a child just that morning, like he was told to. But unlike most of their trades, Tom was not reluctant to give Marcus the goods. He in fact asked to keep the child, for a good amount of time. He told Marcus that the boy was still an infant, still pure. He begged to keep the child, until he was at least two years old._ Obviously Thomas does not know his place._ The brunette shook out of fear, running his hands through his hair as he awaited his response from Marcus. _Classic Riddle move,_ Marcus laughed lightly.

"Now Thomas, do you know your place in this industry," Marcus took a long drag of his cigarette, awaiting his answer. Tom just nodded, his voice failing him. "So you know that asking such a big favor from me is far out of the question."

Tom's face fell, his eyes averting to the wall behind Marcus' head. He did not want to answer, but he knew better than not answering when he was spoken to. "Yes sir, I know. I'm sorry…he's just so young…I just wanted to wait—

"Now, now Thomas," Marcus pushed off the window sill and made his way to the middle of the room, mere inches away from the quivering man before him. "Decisions are not up to you," he blew out the smoke into the brunette's face.

Tom coughed loudly, causing Marcus to cackle. "I know sir, I'm very sorry! I don't know what I was thinking…I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't," he took one last, long drag from his cigarette, letting out the fumes beside Tom's face. "But, I will grant your wish out of the kindness of my heart…and for a price, of course."

Tom winced at his bosses last words. He knew if he had gotten a yes, that would be the response, he just wished that he didn't actually have to hear it. Giving Harry up was hard enough, but for a price, he knew that Harry would suffer once he was inducted into the sex-ring. _What have I gotten myself into?_ "Thank you sir, thank you."

"No," Marcus took his cigarette from his lips, grasping Tom's arm and taking the cigarette end and burning it out on Tom's arm. "Thank you Thomas. You will pay this off in two weeks of drug payments. Then you'll have to find other methods in getting money. No more accepting things aside from money for drugs, no more children. Especially none to live with you."

Tom winced from the burn on his arm, but he dare not cry out. He nodded his head in respect to his boss. "Thank you so much, sir."

No longer feeling the need for company, Marcus flicked his hand towards the door, "off with you now!"

---

"Dada!"

Harry stumbled forward; his tiny legs letting him go as fast as possible. He bombarded his _father_ upon arrival to their home. He'd been sitting in the living room, clad in just a diaper and blue shirt, with one of Tom's whores. Ever since he had been allowed to keep Harry, Tom had begun to whore prostitutes to roll in extra money to pay off his debt to his boss and also to keep Harry well cared for. The infant he'd once traded drugs for, was no longer a little baby, but a bubbly toddler with tons of energy and happiness. He bounced around at the area by Tom's feet, shoving a piece of colored paper up at him. "What's this little guy?"

"For you!" Tom took the paper reluctantly and examined it. It once was a letter he received from Petunia Dursley, but now had marker and crayon all over it. Harry smiled at Tom, his two front teeth shining. "Well look at that, your teeth are coming in perfectly." He smiled, dropping the paper onto a coffee table and scooped up the boy, holding him at eye level. "You weren't any trouble for Daddy's friend, were you?"

Harry shook his head violently, "No! I was good!" Tom smiled at his son's communication achievements. For a two year old, he spoke in almost perfect sentences, except he had a bit of a lisp. Tom didn't worry much about it through, he was sure that was something Harry would grow out of.

"He was good?" Melissa nodded without interest. She wore a pair of his sweatpants and her own white tee-shirt. Her usually curly hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head and her face was clear of make-up. _She looks beautiful when she isn't all whored up_, Tom thought idly. "Have you had a hot shower any time recently?"

"Two weeks ago…the rest were all in freezing cold water," Melissa avoided his gaze, focusing on anything but him. "Look, if you don't need me to watch him anymore…I'll get going."

"You can stay if you want," Tom offered.

"Tom…you're my boss…please the last relationship I had with my boss almost had me killed…I'm not going to sleep with you and be your sex toy," Melissa finally looked at him. Her eyes were filled with fear as she waited for him to respond.

"Harry, go to your room and play with your toys, daddy will be right there," he placed his son on the floor and waited until Harry was in his room. "Melissa…I'm sorry if you got that impression from me…I'm not that kind of a person. I know that's hard to believe coming from….well…your pimp. I'm not in this because I enjoy watching you guys parade around, degrading yourselves. I got mixed up in this business and it's too dangerous to get out of."

"Tom," Melissa snorted in disgust, "You actually expect me to believe you? I've heard shit like that so many times, it's been too many to even keep track of! You're saying the same shit every pimp I've ever met has said. You're just making is sound classier."

"Melissa! I am not like the others. I care about all of you girls," Tom was truly hurt by her words. He knew his business was dirty and he despised being a part of it, but he had no choice. If he wanted to keep Harry as his son, he had to do it. He didn't want to fuck all of his girls, or any of them. He treated them like gold and never scheduled them to perform with any scumbags or infected people. He didn't force them to wear the most degrading clothes. He didn't make them work if they didn't want to. He loved his girls, he appreciated them. "Have I ever tried to get with you before?"

She thought for a moment, her eyes shifting to the floor, "No."

"Have I ever touched you inappropriately?"

"No."

"Do I verbally or physically abuse you?"

"No."

"Have any of the other girls ever said anything about me doing any of that to them?"

Her voice was soft, just above a whisper, "No, never."

"Exactly! Melissa, I care about you girls. All of you…I'm sorry you all got mixed up in this." He settled into the couch beside her, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder, hoping she wouldn't shrug him off. She relaxed beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Sorry to disturb this…cozy moment, but I have come to collect my prize," Tom jumped at the sound of Marcus' voice. He forgot the elder man had a key to his penthouse. _Damnit he ruins everything,_ Tom cursed the other man mentally. Marcus cleared his throat when it appeared Tom wasn't going to stand. Instantly the brunette scrambled to his feet, rushing over towards Marcus, awaiting his command. "I granted you a gift and received no thanks. I know the boy turned two a month ago. Tsk, tsk, tsk, shame on you for not coming to me Thomas!"

Tom froze on the spot. He'd completely forgotten that he was to give Harry over to Marcus when the boy turned two. He mentally smacked himself for letting such a thing slip him. _How could you be such an idiot?_ "I'm…I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Marcus lightly shoved him, "you'll pay, don't bother groveling. Now, where is the boy? I found a customer who wants to _play_ with him for a few hours."

"No!" Tom cursed himself for letting that slip. He knew the consequences of saying 'no' to Marcus, and they weren't good ones. He braced himself and counted down; waiting for the blow, but it never came. Opening his eyes, Marcus was no longer standing in front of him. Turning around, he saw Melissa motioning towards Harry's room. "Please, don't do this to him. He's so innocent. He's just a baby."

"We have customers Thomas, you know the deal," Marcus picked up Harry, his tan arms flexing as he lifted the slumbering child over his shoulder. Tom regretted sending Harry to his room, maybe if he hadn't; Harry would be awake and would be physically fighting to be with Thomas. Maybe if that happened, Marcus would regret doing this. But it wasn't happening, for Harry was fast asleep in Marcus' arms, fully unaware of his surroundings.

"Can't you wait until he's awake at least? He'll be so scared waking up somewhere he doesn't know. Please, let me say goodbye to him," Marcus strode out of the room hastily, trying to get out of there without anymore confrontation between himself and Tom.

"It'd a done deal Tom," and with that, Marcus was gone. Tom felt his heart swell and his eyes brimming with tears. He didn't care who saw him, for he was weak. He freely wailed like a child, clutching his heart as he fell to his knees. Raising his fists to the sky, he cursed God for letting this to happen. _He'd lost his son for good._

_---_

Harry wrapped his arms around himself, cursing the little amount of clothes he wore. He hated dressing up like a girl, he always felt so exposed to the world in the short skirts he was forced to wear. Blushing as he walked past an elderly couple, he rushed down the dimly light street towards the bus stop. Just as he stopped to pull off his heels, the bus pulled up at the stop. He took out a pound from his purse and dumped it in the change box, pushing past people to take a seat at the back of the bus. His travel was a short one, but he hated sitting at the front of the bus, so he comforted himself in his seat. In no time the bus stopped in front of the gates guarding off his home. Hopping up from his seat, he rushed off the bus and to the call box at the gates. _Home at last._

Ever since Harry could remember, his father was forced to pimp him to perverted old men. His father was in debt with Thomas Riddle, so Harry was his only means of payment, him and the other children Riddle had collected to be sex slaves. Now being thirteen, Harry had to travel to his appointments alone, his father having other matters to attend to than bringing him to and from appointments. He was seen as old enough to travel alone. Marcus promised to one day make up all this pain to Harry, and he believed him. His father had gotten into a lot of trouble with Tom and now, in order to pay him off, they lived in one of his many large estates so they didn't have to worry about paying rent, just paying off Tom.

Harry hated having to perform for these men. He didn't like taking his clothes off in front of them and letting them touch him, but he had to. He owed his father that much since he took care of him. His father loved him, and that was all Harry would ever really need. His job wasn't that bad, since all he had to do was perform a little bit and let them touch him, nothing too bad. But he'd heard from one of the older boys that when you got to be 14, you had to have sex with the men, or else they'd lose interest. Hopefully his father will have paid off Tom by then and they could live a normal life together._ Together, as a happy family._

**AUTHORS NOTE! **_Okay, if you're a little confused about Harry having three fathers, its simple. He really only has one, James Potter of course. But, in this fiction, James died when Harry was merely an infant. Tom Riddle is actually a good guy in a way in this fiction, yeah I know __**crazy**__. Tom raises Harry for two years, and he calls Harry his son because he wishes he was. When Marcus steals poor Harry away, he lies to him and then, well our story begins!_


	2. I’m a fake

_**Save Me**_

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: I'm looking for a beta reader! Are you interested? Leave me a review and we can work that out! Now, about my story, if you enjoy it REVIEW IT! If there are some things you think I can work on, leave some NICE suggestions! Enjoy.

**The Earth Mystic**: In reference to your comment, Harry will meet Draco soon. The prologue was a background on Harry, obviously to let you know that he didn't live in the cupboard of the Dursley's but in fact wound up in a situation quite…stickier. Mind the pun, he will get out, just after a bit of roughing. Thank you for the suggestion too!

**Stranger12**: Of course Sirius, Remus, and all our other favorite character will be in this fiction. What would Harry Potter be without them? I just need to incorporate them in a seeming matter. Don't worry, we'll see plenty of Draco and Lucius, _plenty_.

Thank you for** all **of my reviews! I love my reviewers

**Chapter One: **_**I'm a fake**_

_Small, simple, safe price  
Rise the wake and carry me with all of my regrets.  
This is not a small cut that scabs, and dries, and flakes, and heals.  
And I am not afraid to die;  
I'm not afraid to bleed and fuck and fight,  
I want the pain of payment.  
What's left, but a section of pygmy sized cuts  
Much like a slew of a thousand unwanted fucks  
Would you be my little cut?  
Would you be my thousand fucks?  
And make mark leaving space for the guilt to be liquid.  
To fill and spill over and under my thoughts  
my sad, sorry, selfish cry out to the cutter  
I'm cutting trying to picture your black, broken heart.  
Love is not like anything,  
especially a fucking knife!_

_Home is what you make it._ Harry Potter's home was seen as the ideal place to live by the public, but that's not what Harry saw. What he saw was emptiness: pure emptiness. The mansion was the loneliest place to be, especially when his father had his _guests_ over. What Harry had known this home was just a mere illusion. When people saw his house, they believed he was one of those rich boys, but they couldn't have been farther off. He didn't have a private jet that flew him all over the world. His father didn't own their 16 bedroom mansion. The lavished home with its own tennis court, pool vicinity, equipped with Jacuzzi system, smaller home for the pool boy, and golf course, were not property of Marcus. The living room in which Harry had spent many Christmases, starring up at the tree—that raised two stories of the house—in awe, was not actually his own. This home did not belong to him. It never would. And he did not belong to it.

Tom Riddle owned and controlled who lived in that house. Harry was forced to live with 12 other teenagers, all other little whores much like himself. His father had no real money to his name; he was just a man mixed-up in a seriously bad situation. His father was a great man, an honorable man. His father hated the business he was stuck in. _It's that no good Riddle's fault. If I ever see him, I swear I'll kill him. Whatever it takes, I'll fucking kill him for ruining my life._ His father promised to protect him from Riddle, but he couldn't handle Riddle's power. Riddle held something over Marcus' head that Harry did not understand. Whenever his father would come home from meetings with Riddle, for a moment he looked so happy that Harry actually thought something had gone right, but as soon as he saw Harry his mask fell. Riddle had really ruined everything.

Only Marcus was allowed to enjoy anything in their nice house, because he was an adult. All the prostitutes living in the home, aside from Harry when he listened to Riddle's rules (which wasn't that often), were locked up during the day in the third floor study. The study once had been filled with bookcases, but when Riddle had been told that his whores had begun reading and wanting to get an education, he burned all the books and emptied the room entirely except for two couches. They'd be fed twice a day a meal of wet chicken and rice. When night fell, they were forced to get dressed up and set out for their appointments. The girls and boys were only allowed out if they had to meet a married man during his work hours or on weekends. No one was allowed to have an actual life.

Since Harry's father was important to riddle, he didn't have to spend every day up in the chamber as his fellow co-workers and he had come to call it. On days he was allowed to roam the house, he'd come accustom to sleeping in for a little and tending to the garden. Though, when his father was forced to tell Riddle that Harry was constantly visiting the garden, he was forbidden from leaving the house unless he had an appointment to tend to. His father was to keep a strict record of when his appointments were and how long they were supposed to be. He was only a mere few centimeters above the others he lived with on the status scale. His social life was at a bare minimum. There was no way for Harry to get out of the life he'd been born into, even if he knew how.

Harry was sick of it. He just wanted to have a normal life, like all the girls he'd met in the ring told him they once had. They spoke of times when they'd sit around the diner table with their families, basking in the reserved happiness they all had together. He envied them for that; for ever having a life aside from being prostitutes. He hated growing up in the business. He didn't know how much more he could handle. Just like he'd been told, when he turned fourteen his father explained to him that the men required him to have sex with them. At first Harry was very afraid of his first time and when it happened, he swore he was going to die. The pain was unbearable; he felt his body tear in two. For days he could not sit on his behind, it surged with pain if he even tried to. By now he was used to the pain, but mentally he knew he'd never get over it. After every appointment, he took an hour long shower, convincing himself that cleansed him of his dirtiness. That if he cleaned his body literally, maybe his soul would be cleansed. _Maybe I can wash away this feeling of nothingness, maybe I rid this sense of worthlessness._ He still, five years later, could remember the day he lost his virginity in its vivid clearness.

"_Shh Harry, can't you see I'm on the phone?"_

_Marcus smacked his son clear across the face, ignoring the horrified look the boy wore upon his face. He went back to the conversation he'd been a part of. Tom Riddle had called him several times that morning, leaving voice messages every time Marcus had refused to answer. Finally, after Riddle had left him a very vulgar message, Marcus picked up his phone. Riddle had begun screaming immediately, seizing the opportunity to convince Harry even further that Riddle was no good, he called in his son. The eager fourteen year old bounced into the room, having just finished cleaning the dishes. He had a dirty rag slung over his shoulder and his emerald eyes beamed as he smiled at his father. Marcus made sure to press the volume button on his phone, letting Harry know what was going on but keeping him from hearing what was said. Riddle had found out Marcus' plans for Harry that night and he was far from happy over them. He'd been informed that Harry was going to have to have sex with one of his clients and Riddle was doing everything in his power to make sure it didn't happen. Just as Marcus was going to retort to one of Riddle's ignorant comments, Harry began babbling at him. Aggravated, he yelled at him and slapped his son._

"_Dad!"_

_Riddle began screeching into the phone once he heard Harry's cries. Annoyed with his son's outburst, he slammed his phone shut and turned his attention back to his son. Harry had tears brimming in his eyes and for a brief second, Marcus felt a pang of guilt within in his heart. Shaking the feeling, he smacked his son once more. "Don't ever interrupt me like that again. Do you hear me? Learn your place boy!"_

_Harry slightly gaped at his father, but nodded his head. He knew better than to ignore when he was spoken to. "Good, now go get ready. You have a very important appointment tonight."_

"_With who," Harry mumbled his question as he proceeded for the door._

"_Harrison," Marcus said whilst turning his cell-phone off, not caring to speak to or even bother noticing Riddle's calls._

"_But," Harry paused, thinking for a moment. "Didn't he say he didn't want me anymore…not till I would…you know…"_

"_Exactly."_

"_Dad!" Once more, skin against skin could be heard, as Marcus slapped his son for the third time. He grabbed Harry roughly by the shirt and pressed him into the wall forcefully, lifting Harry up off his feet._

"_Damn boy, I thought I said learn your place, didn't I?' He banged Harry once against the wall, waiting for the raven haired teen to nod his head in agreement. "So fucking learn it. You have no say in this! I don't even have a fucking say in it. What makes you think you're so bloody important that your say would matter? Huh? Exactly! Now shut up and get ready like I fucking told you!" With that, he dropped his son to the floor and in one swift movement, swept out of the room and was out of Harry's sight._

_Harry focused in and out on the wall before him, replaying what just happened in his head. His father had clearly smacked him three times in a row, fully enraged with him. His father never usually was that angry with him over nothing. What could he have done? Maybe my selfish wish to remain a virgin is keeping our family from making money; maybe dad is blaming our debt solely on me, Harry thought as tears brimmed his eyes. He was the reason they were so fucked up. If he hadn't of been born, maybe his father wouldn't have had such a hard time with money, maybe he would never have come in debt with Riddle. If my mother never got pregnant, she would never have died of complications in my birth. My father wouldn't always be so angry. If I just had never been born, then I wouldn't be dealing with this problem. I would be what I feel, nothing. No one would know of me. No one would rely on me. I wouldn't be anything._

_Harry rocked back and forth, hugging his knees tightly. Sobbing silently to himself, he began to drift into sleep. His body numb to the world, he finally felt at peace. He was in a gray space of area, time dead around him. He was at peace with himself. He almost felt real until he was shaken violently, bringing him back to reality. Candy, a thirteen year old with tight blond curls, was trying to get his attention. Her voluptuous boobs bounced in his face as she shook with him, grabbing his attention. He almost vomited when he saw what she was wearing. He skirt was barely there, the material hardly covering half of her ass cheeks. Her tueb top clung so tight to her body that her already big boobs popped out of the top and threatened to expose themselves. Her face was made up, much like a clown, and her feet were strapped into stiletto heels. _

"_Harry, you have an appointment in less than an hour…I laid out the clothes that Marcus told me to...their on your bed," she sounded sincere and Harry smiled meekly at her for her attempt. He pushed himself up onto his knees, taking in a deep breathe and got onto his feet._

_There was no more point in fighting the inevitable. He made his way to the room he shared with Tiffany, hoping she wasn't there. He wanted to be alone in his misery. He couldn't handle seeing anyone else; their looks of disappointment brought him to tears. He hated what he'd become, he hated himself. There was no way to get past it, this was his life. He was a prostitute and that's all he'd ever be. No one would look at him twice if they knew what he was, they'd never care about the person he was on the inside; he hardly cared about the person on the inside. He used to care. He used to have motivation, but no longer. All his motivation was sucked from his soul. He was lifeless._

_Bracing himself, he pushed open the door to his room. He smiled meekly as he let out a long breathe; emptiness. He thanked whatever God existed for letting Tiffany be out at that time. Harry trudged over to his bed and that's when he saw it. He knew by the look on Candy's face that what he was set up for tonight was bad…but he had no clue how bad. He could feel the vomit creeping up his throat and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it back, so before he messed up his room anymore, he threw open the bathroom door and let it all out in the toilet. The pain in his stomach did not settle as he lifted himself up from the floor. He unthanked that God._

"_Harry…you're pathetic," his own raspy voice startled him, as he stared himself down in the bathroom mirror. "Good for nothing…piece of shit…good for nothing. No one wants you…no one loves you."_

_As the words settled into his skin, he felt his face flush with anger. "That's all you'll ever be…good for nothing…wont ever amount to nothing. You gonna live your life like this...the rest of your life," his anger rising, he searched the drawers for his stash of vodka. He couldn't listen to himself; he was supposed to be the one person there for him. "No one is here for you…no one loves you Harry, no one."_

_Got it! Pulling out the half empty bottle, he sized up the remaining amount and downed it in one long swig, wiping his mouth off after. He leaned back against the wall, sinking to the floor below him. He waited…and waited for the feeling the slip away, but it never did. He felt worse now that he'd had something to drink. Still holding the glass bottle in his hand, Harry held it close to his face, examining the glass. "Do it Harry…no one will care…no one needs you here," taking his own advice, he smashed the bottle to the tile floors. Picking through the pieces for the largest one, he finally decided upon one and brought it close to his skin. "Do it Harry…you know you want to."_

_Giving into his subconscious, Harry dug the glass deep into his own skin, wincing as the blood began to ooze from the wound. Intrigued by his self-inflicted wound, he began to make another, his vision slowly blurring. The blood now flowed freely onto the white tile as he smiled to himself, drawing pictures in his own blood, he slowly lowered his body to the cold floor, pressing his face to the damp tile. He no longer could speak as his mind faded slowly into darkness and his eyes began to close hazily.__** Come on darkness, take me as yours**_

"_Harry!"_

_Tiffany cried loudly as she discovered Harry unconscious in a pool of his own blood on their bathroom floor. Not knowing what to do, she did the first thing that came to mind: scream as loud as possible. Rushing to his body, she pulled off her own tee-shirt and wrapped it around his arms, pressing his raven hair back and kissing his forehead. "It's going to be okay Harry, I promise." Scarred, she began to scream once more, louder than the last time._

"_Tiff what's— oh my god!" Melanie rushed into the bathroom, stumbling back as soon as she saw Tiffany cradling Harry's bloody, unconscious body. "What the fuck happened?"_

"_I don't know! Go get Marcus," when Melanie didn't move, Tiffany felt the rage within her spark up, "NOW MELANIE! NOW!"_

_Moments later, Marcus and a few of his other girls rushed into the bathroom, everyone rushing about in frenzy. Tiffany continued to cradle Harry in her arms, whispering softly to him. Marcus paused for a long moment, taking in the whole scene. Girls were rushing back and forth with wet towels, trying to clean Harry up. Others were fetching him new clothes, as those remaining tried to bandage him up. Tiffany, amongst the chaos, looked as if she was in another place. Taking in a deep breathe, Marcus stepped forward, "Everyone," but no on paid him any attention, clearing his throat he raised his voice, "EVERYONE!"_

_All the girls stopped what they were doing and starred at him. Smiling lightly, he looked all around him, "glad to have your attention now. Listen, I thank you for all of your help, but I am sure I can take care of Harry on my own. Now, go back to what you were doing," when no one moved, he bit his tongue and glared at them. "I don't enjoy when you do not listen to what you're told to do. Now, I will not repeat myself after this; __**go back to what you were doing.**__"_

_At once, all the girls rushed out of the bathroom, right past Marcus, all except Tiffany. She remained on the floor holding onto Harry. She was not paying Marcus any attention; she was rocking Harry back and forth as she brushed his hair idly. Annoyed that Tiffany was obviously ignoring him, he stepped forward and grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. "Tiffany, get out of here."_

"_Marcus," her voice was raspy and he once again felt that familiar pang of guilt from earlier._

_Fed up with these emotions running through him, he slapped her hard across the face. "I am tired of everyone stepping out of line. IF YOU DON'T LEARN YOUR FUCKING PLACE, YOU'LL NO LONGER HAVE ONE!"_

"_I'm so sorry," she began to freely cry as she dropped Harry's body to the ground and scrambled to her feet. "I promise it…it won't happen again. I promise, I'm so sorry. What…what can I do to make it up to you?"_

"_No, there will not be any 'making it up to me' tonight, just leave!" he pushed her out of his way as he dropped down to his son's body. Picking up the teen, he made sure Tiffany had left before locking the door. He propped Harry against the wall in a sitting position and he filled up the tub with warm water. There was only one way he knew he was going to wake up his son. Ashamed with himself, he lowered his teenage boy's body into the water and pressed his head to the bottom of the full bath. After a few seconds, he felt Harry struggling against him, and in a heart-beat he let go. Harry sat up in the tub, gasping for air as he looked around the room. When he locked eyes with Marcus, his face dropped. "Dad...did you…just try to…"_

"_Don't be silly Harry," Marcus laughed, trying to convince himself, "I was saving you. You had...hurt yourself and were unconscious on the floor…this was the only logical way of getting you to wake up fast. Plus it cleans you up right, now doesn't it?"_

_Harry didn't answer, he only starred down in the musty red bath water. He was still in his boxers and tee-shirt, but it didn't really bother him. His father seemed to actually care about him, seriously and honestly care if he was okay. "So…you found me…like this?"_

"_No Tiffany did," he was now busying himself with cleaning up the blood off the floor. He looked at Harry once before looking back down at the floor. "Melanie heard her screaming, so did some others, and then Mel came and got me. At first…I thought you were dead."_

"_I wish I was…" Harry bit his tongue when he realized he said that out loud. Marcus stopped his cleaning and knelt beside the bath tub._

"_Harry…tell me, why did you do this…"_

"_Dad, I don't want…I don't want to have sex with those men," Harry avoided his fathers gaze at all costs. "It's…wrong."_

"_I know Harry, but they're paying costumers…we need the money…Tom…Tom is getting angry with us! We need all the money we can get now…I'm so sorry. Look, I can make you feel better about this, about…losing it to someone you don't love…you can lose it to someone you love…"_

"_Dad…are you…saying…you?"_

"_Yes Harry," Marcus voice was sharp and Harry was afraid to say no. He nodded his head lightly and his father lifted him out of the bath tub. Pulling off Harry's wet shirt, Marcus smiled as Harry cringed at the touch, "now go put the heat on in my room and I'll be right there."_

_Harry quickly did as he was told and then proceeded to sit on his father's bed, starring into the distance of the room. After a few minutes of solitude, Marcus strolled into the room, locking the door quietly behind him. Harry, having gone through the steps leading up to sex, but not actually going through with it, knew what to do. He pulled his boxers off and lied back onto the bed, waiting for his father to come to his side. Marcus smiled at his son's knowledge as he pulled his own clothes off, leaving them in a pile at his feet. Casually, he slipped into bed beside his son and stroked the teenage body's bare flesh, sending chills up and down Harry's spine. Stroking the skin, Marcus began to place gentle kisses on the crook of Harry's neck. Harry cringed as he felt his father's member stiffen into his back. Marcus pulled him closer as his hands roamed all over Harry's body, landing on Harry's own cock. Marcus stroked it gently for a few paces before jerking it hard in his hands. As the heat of the moment intensified, Marcus pushed Harry onto his stomach and slipped a finger into Harry's tight behind, causing Harry to yelp in pain._

"_Shh, it doesn't hurt for long," Marcus whispered huskily into Harry's ear. __**Liar**__. Harry bit back another yelp as his father jumped from one slow moving finger to three fast paced fingers. His father no longer used caution as the passion intensified. Just as Harry thought the pain that was seizing through him couldn't get any worse, his father plummeted into him, pumping harder and harder each time. Harry couldn't hold back to tears of pain any longer, he freely cried and screamed as the pain ate away at him, but Marcus ignored him. Harry didn't know how much more he could take when his father finally bust inside of him, slowly pulling out and lying back into the bed. Harry curled up into a little ball, rocking back and forth as the pain intensified, crying his eyes out. Marcus draped an arm lazily over his body, "don't cry angel…you weren't too bad."_

_---_

Harry followed closely behind his father, smiling eagerly as he shut his eyes, awaiting his birthday surprise. It was his nineteenth birthday and his father had woken him early to give him a surprise. He could hardly hold back his enthusiasm as his father burst open a door and smiled back at his son, "Tada!" He stepped out of the way to show Harry a room that was the size of their laundry room. It was a lot bigger than the room he shared with Tiffany, the one whore who had been in the business almost as long as he. It wasn't furnished as nice as the rest of the house, but it was a great step up compared to his last room. His smile widening, he rushed into the room and hoped onto the white sheets of the bed. Laying his head against the red pillows, he prayed this was his surprise. A room all his own, a nice room he could actually sleep in.

"Happy Birthday son!" Marcus' opened his arms and waited for Harry to embrace him tightly. "I convinced Tom to let me give you this room for your birthday; I told him this day meant so much to you. I said I needed to surprise you with just the right gift. Did I do it?"

"Yes! Thank you dad," he said into his father's chest. He waited for his father to drop his arms before he ran back to his bed and jumped onto it, clutching the pillow to his face. "This means so much to me…thank-you!"

"You're welcome, it's the least I could do," Marcus' voice wasn't as radiant as it once was before; instead it sounded as if he almost felt guilty. Harry turned his head and shot his father a questioning glare. Marcus' smiled faintly. "You see…I need…I mean Tom needs you to service a party of his tonight."

"What? Dad it's my birthday!" Harry knew he wasn't going to get to enjoy his birthday that long; he was surprised he'd made it this long. His father gave him a look that instantly made him feel guilty. He knew his father wouldn't ask this of him if he really didn't need it. "Fine…when and how long?"

"Seven, for about five hours, and it's going to be at Tom's place," Harry sneered at the last remark. "Hey at least you get to enjoy your birthday till five, then you and three others will get ready and then leave for his house. Okay?"

"Alright."

"Then it is settled," Marcus' smiled slyly and turned to leave, but before he exited the room, he tossed a remark at Harry over his shoulder, "just because it's your birthday, that doesn't mean you can roam the house. Just be happy you got this room Harry. You're damn lucky."

_That he was._

_---_

In all the years Harry's father had been controlled by Tom Riddle, Harry had never once been to the psychopath's house. From the girls' gossip, he'd heard that their house looked like a ruddy shoe shack compared to the Riddle mansion. Usually he could care less about others wealth, but as he prepared himself for the night, he felt a gut wrenching pain. He was embarrassed to be going to someone of more wealth's house to sell himself. The girls had all been talking earlier that day when he'd snuck in to visit them. They were gossiping about how fun the party that night would be. It would be the first time they'd all seen Riddle since they'd entered the business. Usually the girls hated to have to service parties, but they were actually excited to be attending the Riddle party. According to them, it was an honor to even get near the entrance to the Riddle home. Whatever honor it was, Harry did not want anything to do with it. He'd rather stick forks into his eyes: slowly.

"Har," Tiffany's voice floated into the bathroom, catching the raven haired boy's attention. "You decent babe?"

"Like it really matters anymore?" Harry didn't enjoy what he did, but joking about it with the others in the same situation seemed to lighten the whole darkness about what they were involved in. "yeah…I'm fine, come in."

Tiffany pushed open the bathroom door and smiled at him, "Jeez you sure lucked out. That room…it's great! And this bathroom…wow it actually is, you know, nice."

"I know, my dad is great, he worked out a deal with riddle for it," Tiffany' smiled faded at the mentioning of Marcus. Harry mentally smacked himself for mentioning his father; he knew that Tiffany disliked him. He really never knew why, but according to Tiffany it was very serious. "Sorry Tif…"

"It's okay, don't worry about it," looking him over, she beamed, "well gee don't you look hot!"

"I don't want to show up to that scum's house looking like ass…I want to you know, maybe lighten this situation a little, maybe get Riddle to like me…so he lets me and my dad off the hook for a while. Some others too, if you know who I mean!"

"Oh Harry!" Tiffany threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. "I love you, you know that _you're_ my best friend! Oh, I cant wait for tonight!"

"You're seriously pathetic," Melanie's voice drawled as she stepped into the bathroom. "Why is everyone so excited to go to Riddles' place? Honestly, I mean it's fucking Tom Riddle for Gods sake. The reason _we_ live here, you remember him?"

Tiffany shot Melanie a death glare, "I don't remember anyone asking you a damn thing. So how about shutting your god damn mouth for one fucking second or at least go wrap it around someone else's d—

"Tiffany!" Harry spun the blonde around to face him, "do not turn against our own! Melanie, please not tonight, at least not here. Okay?"

The two did not answer him. Melanie spun on her heel and left the bathroom as Tiffany busied herself in front of the mirror, fixing her make-up. Harry sighed heavily as he began to check himself out in the mirror. His father told him that he was to dress up like a woman for the night, again, so he picked one of his less whorish outfits. Dark wash, skinny Seven denim jeans with red stiletto heels showed off his feminine lower body as a white half shirt, low-cut v-neck clung tightly to his upper body. He had on a black wig and gold hoops in his ears with a golden pendent around his neck. "Do my make-up!"

"Fine, bossy bitch," Tiffany joked, nudging Harry lightly as they both broke into a fight of laughter. The joked around for a while until Melanie came back into the room to let them know the others were leaving for the party. All the fun and laughter from the moment before left as Harry felt a pang of self hate creep into his gut. Smiling reassuringly towards Tiffany, he pulled himself out of the vanity chair and made his way towards the house exit. All the others were waiting anxiously at the door, their clothes barely evident. Harry sighed when he remembered just exactly where they were going. _Here it goes._

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Sorry this took me so long to get out, I've been so caught up with school and play practice, and I've barely had anytime to write! Well don't worry about that, Christmas break starts tomorrow, so I have a good amount of free time, minus the time I am working…which is a lot. But as long as I get a good amount of reviews, the next chapter _will_ be out this week! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it may be a teeny bit confusing, the long italics are a flashback. Just in case you didn't get that! Draco will appear soon, the next chapter is a big one that explains aloottttt! That's when the story really picks up, okay? OKAY!


	3. I'm sorry for blaming you

_**Save Me**_

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit! Also, the song in the title is NOT written by me.

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: Okay, about my story, if you enjoy it: REVIEW IT! If there are some things you think I can work on, leave some NICE suggestions! If you have something you'd really like to see, leave me a review and I promise, if I can work it in, I will! Enjoy.

**ANOTHER Authors Note: ** Thank you so much to my beta reader, Chloekitty22! Without her, this chapter would have been a total mess! So once again, **thank you so much!**

**Chapter Two**: **_I'm sorry for blaming you_**

_Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face  
You told me how proud you were, but I walked away  
If only I knew what I know today_

I would hold you in my arms  
I would take the pain away  
Thank you for all you've done  
Forgive all your mistakes  
There's nothing I wouldn't do  
To hear your voice again  
Sometimes I wanna call you  
But I know you won't be there

_I need to get out of here_ Harry thought quietly to himself. He'd arrived at Riddle's house fifteen minutes earlier and already he felt his stomach doing cartwheels all over the place. Riddle's place was nothing like what everyone had told him. It wasn't a gigantic mansion fit for a royal family; it wasn't even a mansion at all. He lived in a penthouse amid the city, a very luxurious penthouse, but it still was a penthouse. According to the others working that night, this was Tom's city home, but his regular house was off in the country side. The talk going around was that the only reason Tom even owned a penthouse was so he'd have somewhere to stay when he held transactions in the city, and that the penthouse was merely like a hotel to him.

The fact of the matter was that Tom wasn't even at the party, so there was no point in anyone even being there. _Spoiled, god-damn rich bastard who can't even show his face at his own party, arsehole_.The only reason all of the hookers even wanted to go was to actually see Tom in person. All had heard his phone calls to Marcus before, heard plenty of talk about him, and even heard about his family before, but no one had actually gotten to see him for real. Harry, one of those people, was excited when he and a few others got out of the taxi at Riddle's address, just because he was anxious to meet Riddle. Much to his disappointment, when they walked in the door, they were bombarded by drunken men. After being groped a few times, Harry did a quick scan of the house, looking for any faces he couldn't recognize or for someone who just looked rich. When he found no one he didn't know, he decided to do a physical search. By the time he finished his search, he realized there was no one in charge of the hookers actually supervising the party. Everyone there were well known clients and it was assumed that if anyone left, it would be reported.

"Hey….hey you….yeah you," Harry turned to see a man leant against the wall, a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was a lanky brunette with chocolate brown eyes and perfect skin who looked to be in his late twenties. Harry slapped himself mentally for actually checking out the man; _do not check out the clients…even if they are totally gorgeous._ The brunette smirked as a blush crept over Harry's cheeks. He burnt the cigarette out in the palm of his hand, flicking it to the ground with a snort. He looked back up at Harry and gave a flirtatious smile before leaning forward and extending his free hand, "The name is Michael, Michael Brock."

"Hello Mr. Brock," Harry shook the hand gently, letting his own hands fall awkwardly to his sides. He looked around; no one else was in the hall way besides the two of them, so the smoke from the others wasn't clouding his vision, which he was thankful for.

"Please, don't call me Mr. Brock, Michael is fine. If you prefer, you can call me Mike! Mister makes me sound so…old," Michael laughed aloud at his own joke, which made Harry laugh as well. Michael flashed a grin at Harry once more before extending the beer to Harry, "Have some."

Without missing a beat, Harry took the bottle and took a long, much needed swig of it. Wiping the little dribble that had spilled out onto his chin away, Harry handed the bottle back to Michael. When he didn't take it, Harry gave him a concerned look and cleared his throat, "here you go."

"You can have the rest if you want…you look like you need a drink," Harry knew where this was going, this guy wanted sex. Taking in a long breathe, he finished the beer in one fast swig before dropping it to the ground, letting it smash to pieces.

"Opps."

"We better get away from here, don't want you to get in trouble for littering," Michael grabbed Harry lightly by the wrist and pulled him along the hallway to the end, where double doors stared them in the face. Not caring if anyone was in there, Michael bust the doors open and pulled Harry in. As Michael searched the room for anyone else, Harry prayed that Michael would be as gentle as he had been so far, for the previous nights party had left him very sore. When Michael came back with a big grin on his face, Harry could tell he was going to need another beer. _Like five more and a sedative._

As the party progressed on, rapidly, Harry felt everything moving before him in slow motion. After he and Michael had become intimate, everyone moved much slower. All their actions seemed to be thought of clearly before put into motion. Everything had a purpose. Harry felt as if he were stuck in the gray area of thought before action. Everyone was around him, laughing loudly and enjoying themselves. Michael clung tightly to Harry, holding him safely on his lap as he laughed along with his friends. There was a joke going around that Harry has missed out on but that didn't stop him from laughing. There were others just like him around, all laughing as well, so he knew it must have been funny. Either that or they were stuck in the space as him. Whatever is was; Harry stopped caring. He leaned back into Michael and let him be the dominate one. He shut his eyes, slowed his breathing down, and began to drift into sleep.

"Hey, make them…you know perform? We paid Marcus for this night, the least we get is a performance," Harry heard the words, but they did not correspond with his brain. He assumed that whoever was talking was talking about two of the girls sitting around in the circle, or two of the other boys. Whoever it was, he felt sorry for them. Performances were crucial, it was key that you did your absolute best, to make sure that you got that client back. If you didn't, you'd be in a lot of trouble.

"Harry," Michael was whispering delicately into his ear, "baby wake up. The guys want you to show off your amazing moves."

_What? **My **amazing moves?_ Harry felt the world halt around him. His eyes shot open and he looked around the circle, everyone was nodding enthusiastically at him. James was sitting in the middle of the circle, a half-smile on his face as he waited for Harry to join him. Harry had performed with David plenty of times before, but the embarrassment of performing in front of everyone never seemed to fade, if anything, the pain and humiliation only seemed to amount every time he was forced to do anything. "I guess…we can do the second routine…or make one up?"

James did not verbally respond, he just nodded his head and Harry assumed that he wanted to make one up as well. They both hated doing the same thing over and over again, so creating a whole new routine was something that may make them forget they were doing it in front of a crowd. David was the one to start, by grabbing Harry furiously to him, kissing him with what looked to be a deep passionate love for Harry but Harry wasn't dumb, he knew that David was only acting, just like he was. James's hands were roaming all over Harry's body, as Harry was groping David's ass. The crowd began to howl as James ripped off Harry's shirt and pushed him onto his back. The brunette crawled onto Harry, straddling him. He began to place delicate kisses up and down Harry's torso as he unbuttoned his own blouse and as soon he undid the last button, he threw the shirt into the crowd, causing them to go wild as he undid Harry's belt. Just as he pulled down Harry's girl's pants, the door to the penthouse opened, but the two now standing in the doorway went unnoticed. David fiddle around with Harry's panties, teasing the raven haired boy a little before ripping off the garment all together and throwing them into the crowd as well. With one rapid motion, he took the length of Harry in his mouth and began to pleasure the raven haired boy. The group of drunken men began to howl and hoot as Harry cried out in ecstasy.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Everyone spun around to see Tom Riddle standing with his briefcase in one hand and two duffel bags in another. His face wore a look of utter horror and for a moment, Harry swore he saw the older man look at him with a look of complete distress. "Everyone, OUT! NOW!"

"Tom," Michael started, clapping the man on the back. "Everyone is having a great time; Marcus told us you wouldn't be back till tomorrow. He said that we all deserved a nice party for being such great clients. He told us to enjoy ourselves. And well," he motioned towards Harry and David, "We were just starting to have a great time."

"I told you to get out of my house, don't make me fucking call the cops. They are all minors here, you fucking perverts," Tom threw his bags to floor in a furry. He rushed over to Harry's side and pulled him straight up, "Go, go get changed now! All of Marcus' kids, you stay, everyone else, GET THE FUCK OUT NOW! BEFORE I CALL THE COPS! WANT TO GO TO JAIL FOR FUCKING CHILD MOLESTATION?"

All the men staggered to the door, chaos erupting as they tried to flee. Some of the hookers tried to go with them, but Tom pulled them back and ordered them all to sit on the couch. As soon as the last man exited the door, Tom slammed it shut and locked it behind himself. Everyone was sitting on the couches and on the floor, avoiding Tom's furious glare. When it appeared no one was going to say anything, Tom began to yell, "Who sent you? Did Marcus?"

Everyone sat in silence, ignoring Tom's screams. "I FUCKING ASKED YOU A QUESTION! SOME ONE ANSWER ME NOW!"

Harry stood up, sick of the bullshit. He'd just met Tom a mere minute ago and already the bastard was acting worse than his father ever had. No wonder his dad was always so angry after talking to Tom, he was an asshole. "Fuck you!"

"What did you say to me?" Tom got right in the raven haired boys face, starring him down. He was not about to take lip from a little teenage slut. Harry didn't answer him; he just bit his lip and looked around him, hoping for some support. "I said, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME? YOU GOT THE NERVE TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT? GROW SOME FUCKING BALLS AND SAY IT, RIGHT IN MY FACE!"

Harry snapped. He punched the older man straight in the jaw. "FUCK YOU! YOU HEAR ME? I SAID FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOR FUCKING UP MY LIFE," he felt all his anger boiling in his blood. Tom stumbled back and Harry took the opportunity to kick him while he was down. With all his might he kicked harder and harder each time. "I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE YOU PSYCHO BASTARD!"

Harry looked around the house for something sharp; _he was ready to kill Riddle._ Just as he was making his way to the kitchen, David stopped him. "Harry calm down, it's not worth it. You can't do this…do you know what'll happen to us? What he'll tell your dad?"

"Your dad," Riddle snorted loudly. "That's it? Marcus is your dad now? Huh, he's your pimp daddy, right?" Riddle pulled himself up to his feet, spitting blood onto the white carpet. He wiped off the excess blood on his chin as he sauntered over to Harry. "That's what he told you, did he now?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry felt his fists balling up at his sides, and he knew if David wasn't standing next to him, he'd be wailing on Riddle once again.

"You actually believed that slime when he said you were his son?" Harry was utterly confused. Riddle had to be playing some sort of trick on him. "You never noticed how he's uglier than a sack of nuts and you're a gorgeous young boy?

"He is my father, you idiot. Just because I don't look like him doesn't mean he isn't my father!"

"Oh yeah? Your father is dead!"

"Tom!" For the first time, everyone else noticed that Tom had not come alone. At the door to the penthouse was a woman who appeared to be the same age as Tom. Unlike everyone else there besides Tom, she was not a whore. She wore a beautiful red gown with matching red shoes and held a little golden clutch tightly in her palms. Her hair was up in an elaborate bun, with a few curled blond strands falling onto her face. There was no make-up on her face whatsoever, and nonetheless she looked absolutely gorgeous. "Don't, he's still so young! You're going to get in trouble."

"Fuck it, Melissa I'm tired of living in this hell! I can't do this anymore," Tom had rushed to her side by this time. She'd begun to cry. "I hate living like this. I want to be out of this world, I just want to have a family with you and grow old. You know that baby."

"But we can't have that, Marcus will kill you," Melissa fell to her knees, her porcelain white skin stained with tears. "He'll kill you…"

Tom took her into his arms, rocking her back and forth, "No baby… he wont, don't worry."

"What…" Harry breathed out; standing above the couple now, "is this all about?"

Tom soothed his fiancé once more before standing up, towering over Harry. He sighed heavily, "Sit down…you're going to need it," he waited the raven haired boy to follow his orders. All the others moved to the floor before the couch to listen. Tom sat beside Harry and just starred at him for a long moment. "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"What? You wish what didn't have to be like this? What are you talking about? What the hell is going on, what do you mean my father is dead? I saw him no more then 10 hours ago."

"Marcus is not your father, Harry. I'm not sure how to put this kindly." Tom breathed calmly as Harry's eyes darted around the room, looking for support. James took the seat beside Harry, taking his hand in his own and squeezing it tightly. "Your father died…when you were a baby. His name was James, James Potter. His wife, Lily Potter, she was your mother. Your mother did not die due to complications during your birth. There was a car accident, your parents died that night…but you lived."

Harry didn't know what to think. His mind was racing with millions of different thoughts. He couldn't feel anything, so he just nodded for Tom to continue.

"You were given to your only remaining relatives, Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They were both drug addicts and well…they traded you for drugs. I admit, I'm the reason your life is in this situation. I was the dealer in that situation. I'm so sorry Harry. Hate me all you want, I deserve it. I owed Marcus so much money, as soon as he found out I had you, he offered to let me make up some of my debt if I gave you to him. You have to realize, there is no such thing as a declining one of his offers. I'm so sorry Harry."

Harry felt his world spinning around him rapidly. _Marcus wasn't his father. His father was dead. His mother was dead, but not because of him. He'd been traded as a baby for drugs. Marcus…was the bad guy, not Tom. _"So…I'm not Harry Hopkins…but Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Melissa answered. Tom was crying silently at her side. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. "You're Harry Potter. We called you that…when you were just a baby. Tommy, you called him daddy and well, he…he called you his son. He may be the reason you are in this business…but Harry he loved you, with all his heart. Oh, if only you knew."

"I'm so sorry Harry…I wish I'd have never accepted Vernon's idea, but I didn't do it just because I owed Marcus. I knew if I left you with the Dursley's, they'd either abandon you or kill you. Their own son died when he was a baby, he drowned in the bathtub."

"I have… no family," Harry couldn't comprehend it. This couldn't be happening. Everything he'd once known was a complete lie. _Every last thing. Every little detail of his life, was a complete, utter lie. _"I'm just some little crack baby…good for nothing…good for nothing." Harry felt his heart pounding within his chest. He couldn't handle the pain anymore, he had to get out of there. _Now_. "Give me all of your money," his voice was barely above a whisper.

"What," Tom looked at him indifferently.

"Give me all of your money…everyone," Harry stood up, looking around the group. When no one moved, he ran down the hallway he'd met Michael in, past the broken beer bottle and thrust open the double doors. Tom and Melissa followed close behind. Rushing about the room, Harry remembered exactly where he'd seen _it_. In a rage, he ripped the night stand table drawer out and pulled out the gun he'd found earlier. He turned to Tom and Melissa, "Look I don't want to hurt anyone, but if you don't give me the money, I will be forced to shoot you in the fucking face."

"Harry what are you doing?" Tom cautiously stepped forward which caused Harry to point the gun directly at his face.

"I'm leaving, now give me all of your money," Harry took one big step forward, putting the barrel of the gun directly against Tom's forehead. "You know…I dreamed of doing this to you. Funny that you're actually the good guy, isn't it? I've had plenty of opportunities to kill my…Marcus, but I didn't. All this time I wasted on hating you, when I could have hated him. You know…it'd be a total waste to just not kill you…I mean I've dreamt of this moment for so long."

"No!" Melissa stepped forward, "I'll give you all my money! My cards! Everything, here take this!" She thrust her clutch at him. Smiling, Harry took the clutch and put it under his arm.

"And you Tommy?" Reluctantly, Tom stuck his hand into his pocket and gave Harry his wallet. "Okay, I need a duffel bag. Fill it with clothes for me please, tee shirts, jeans, whatever. Underwear, lots of that. This thong is killing me. Some sneakers too, I can't walk around in these heels forever now, can I? I'll be back in a minute."

Harry left the room in a hush, entering the living room once more. Everyone sat in silence when they realized what Harry was holding. David stood, up from the couch and proceeded to Harry, his eyes pleading Harry to no go through with this. "Nothing personal David," Harry pointed the gun towards the brunette, "but give me all of your money. Hey, if you want, come with me. Anyone!"

No one budged. Harry snorted, "Fine then, live your lives as fucking whores. Afraid Marcus will kill you, eh? Now that we've found out the dirty, ugly truth? All of you, if you have money, give me it, now."

Everyone began to empty their pockets, giving all their money to Harry. Smiling, Harry pocketed all the cash and lowered the gun. "Sorry David, like I said: nothing personal."

David only nodded before backing away slowly. When he was seated, Harry looked around at the group. A few girls were crying as the guys pretending that nothing was happening. When Harry located Tiffany, he frowned as she sat silently, rocking herself back and forth. "Tiffany… come with me."

"No Harry, I can't," her voice was soft. "If more of us leave the more pissed Marcus will be; he'll take it out on the others. If you want to die…then go. I can't stop you. Just know Harry…I love you."

"Love you too," Harry said with a bright smile. When he turned to leave, he came face to face with Melissa. She was holding out the duffel bag he asked for. "Uhm, thank you I guess," he looked around at everyone's faces, "Goodbye guys."

Without another word, Harry fled the penthouse. He zipped past the elevators and fled down the stairs, his feet carrying him as fast as humanly possible. He had no clue of where he was going or what he planned on doing, but he knew that he had to get out of there. He waved a taxi down and told him to take him to the nicest hotel in town. As they drove on, Harry felt everything hit him at once. All the pain smacked him right in the face and he began to cry like a baby. He had no one now. He was all alone, just like he felt. He really was no one. No one in the world cared about him. Harry felt his stomach churn as the tears increased. His head began to pound as his brain throbbed inside his skull. His vision was blurring from all the tears and he just wished he could die. The driver apologized and let him know it'd be a while before they got to the hotel because of traffic. _Tonight's never going to end._

HDHDHDHD

Draco Malfoy threw his arms up in distress. His mother and father had been lecturing him for the umpteenth time that his late night parties and explicit magazine articles were unacceptable. Earlier that morning, when the newspaper arrived, his mother had called him down and he knew then what was in store. The previous night he'd attended one of London's biggest parties, ever. It was his best friend's, Blaise Zabani, birthday so, as a treat they all planned him a surprise party. They rented out club Archipelago, the newest and hottest club in town. Plenty of celebrities were invited, and as expected, the party was a total success. Blaise nearly peed himself when he saw that his favorite American performer, Nelly Furtado, was going to sing to him. The guest list was exclusive and no one who was a no one got into the party, just as planned. Draco loved every second of the party, but since it was raved about in the news, his parents did not approve. And the picture of him table dancing with two girls on the front cover of one of his usually loved tabloids did not make it any better.

"Draco," his mother cooed, sipping at her coffee as she rested against their kitchen counter. Whenever a confrontation was about to occur, he was called down to the kitchen where his mother and father made it appear that they'd been cooking their own breakfast, though Draco knew their cook had just left. Just as usual, when he entered the room nearly an hour later, his mother was struggling with the coffee machine as his father sat at their large kitchen with the paper in his hands. Much to Draco's discomfort, the sunlight poured in through the open window, making Draco's head ache ten times worse than it already was. "We need to talk about this," she points to the news article in Lucius's hand.

"No Narcissa," Lucius stood up from his chair, dropping the paper into a mess on the table and sauntered over to his wife's said. He looked a Draco was a discontented look and put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "No more talking this out with Draco. He never listens. There will be no more partying, you here me? No more shopping all the time. None of your little ritzy boy stuff. You want to live like a rich boy? Then get rich on your own Draco. You cannot fall back onto us for everything, my father worked so hard for this life and you are not going to just destroy the Malfoy name with your partying. I have upheld the Malfoy name and I was intending on having you take over this business when I planned on retiring, but I guess I will have to turn to someone else; someone more responsible."

"Father!" His father usually lectured him, maybe took one or two of his phones away and cut his budget down, but never in a million years had Draco actually expected to be punished. "You've got to be kidding me! It's just parties, nothing serious!"

"Nothing serious," Draco winced at his fathers tone. The elder blonde swept past his son and grabbed the article off the table. He scanned it for a moment before looking up at his son. "_The youngest Malfoy seems to enjoy drinking a whole lot, perhaps too much. When asked for an interview, he simply slurred his words before hitting on one of our personnel. If Lucius Malfoy does not keep his son in line, the charming little heir is going to get himself mixed up in a lot of trouble_. Nothing, huh? You hear that Narcissa, he thinks this is nothing?"

"Drakey," Narcissa swept a blond strand of hair out of his face. He batted his eyes at her, hoping she'd cave but instead she frowned at him. "I am not weak like Jell-O Draco Lucius Malfoy. I will not settle for your puppy dog eyes as an excuse. Don't bat those eyelashes at me anymore, I agree whole heartedly with your father. You're completely out of control. Use the house phone to call Blaise and let him know that your plans for today are canceled."

"Why? Why are my plans cancelled?"

Narcissa smiled at her husband, when no one answered Draco he stopped his foot and put his hands on his hips. His silver eyes storming as he searched his parents' faces for a hint of why he had to cancel his plans with Blaise. Lucius sighed heavily before taking a step forward, "You are to spend the day looking for a job. Might I suggest, working in one of my hotels."

"You're…you're kidding me." Draco could not believe it. He knew he was spoiled, that wasn't anything new, but he never expected his parents to actually ever punish him. A real job was too much for him. He had worked himself so hard to be at the top of the social chain the world; there was no way anyone would take him seriously if he had to stop his partying to…work. "Please, you've got to be joking, this is crazy."

"Call Blaise now before those privileges are revoked too," and with that, both of his parents exited the kitchen, leaving a very confused Draco behind them.

Perplexed, Draco whipped out his sidekick 4 (an exclusive phone made just for him by Chanel) and hit number one and waited for Blaise to pick up. He need to get the last usage out of his phone before his parents took it away. "Blaise, oh my god, my parent's are nuts…they went way too far this time! They're taking everything away from…they say I have to cancel my plans with you today to find a_ job_….I knooooooow, my father suggested I work at Malfoy Manor…you know what, fuck it, come over! I need someone sane here, like now….okay, I'll see you then…yeah, ciao."

Still fuming, Draco hit the number two on his phone and awaited Pansy's answer. "Pans, oh my god, you'll never guess what happened…no Oprah didn't ask me to be on her show, think for a fucking second please…I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I'm just so mad…yeah, it's my parents, who else? They are nuts…they are grounding me…I think that's what it means….well whatever the word actually means doesn't matter, I am getting my phone and everything that helps me exist taken away from me…yeah, he's coming over now...you come over too, I need you guys more than ever…have I ever actually cared what my parents thought…well yeah, that may be how I am in this predicament but that doesn't mean shit now, come over…okay, love you too."

Draco began to pace around the kitchen as he awaited the arrival of his two best friends. _This can't be happening…this has to be a prank! That's it, ha ha the jokes on Draco, really funny!_ When both of his parents walked back into the room, with a duffel bag with their hotel's emblem on it, Draco lost it. "Okay, Mum, Dad, you got me. Very funny, but I think this has gone too far! Very funny, see I'm laughing. What's in there, huh? A uniform for me? Gee, you guys sure when above and beyond for this one!"

"Draco, we're very serious," Narcissa thrust the bag at him, "yes there is a uniform in here. We contacted the hotel in London to let them know you'd be starting today, you have the 4 to 11:30 shift."

"We're waiting for a thank you," Lucius said after a long silence.

"Thank you for what? Ruining my life? Gee, thanks a lot mum and dad love you too!"

"Draco, Draco, Draco, you're being far too over dramatic," Lucius clapped his son on the back, "you're lucky we didn't force you to go out and look for an actual job. You're working in a grand hotel, be happy. It's better than nothing."

"I'd rather have that nothing right now," Draco muttered to himself as he unzipped the bag and took a picture of it with his only phone left, sending it with a frowning face to Blaise and Pansy.

"That can be arranged," Narcissa said quickly pulling the tiny machine out of his hand. "Now," she dug her hands into his pockets and pulled out his Krazr, Blackberry, and iPod nano. "You won't be needing these. But, since we feel a little bad, you can have this phone. There is no texting on it, you have limited minutes and oh yeah we'll know if you're talking to Blaise and Pansy, so don't."

"I can't believe this," Draco sunk to the floor, looking at the Pebble in his hands. "Are there any games?"

"Nope, nothing that can actually satisfy boredom," Narcissa smirked at him, "sorry baby."

"No you're not," Draco snapped.

"Do not talk to your mother like that, or you won't be seeing this for a long time," Lucius waved his cell phone in his face, reminding his son of his place. "Get to work on time or else you'll be stuck finding your own job. Have a nice day."

"Yeah, nice day," Draco grumbled as he sprawled out on the kitchen floor. Mere minutes after his parents left, both Blaise and Pansy raced into the kitchen out of breathe. "What took you so long?"

"Draco, we aren't track runners, we both had to get ready before we came over and I assumed that you called Pansy, so I had my driver stop and get her and well, Gods you know how long it takes her to get ready," Blaise explained, taking in a deep breathe and falling into the chair Draco's father had sat in earlier. Pansy nodded her head and looked Draco over.

"I got your text…so I'm guessing that's your new uniform, huh?"

"Yeah, I start work…today," Draco sobbed into Pansy's shirt, causing the girl to cringe and push him off.

"Jeez, hold on a sec, this shirt is custom made, from a French line, more expensive than anything," Pansy pulled off the silk blouse delicately and placed it on the kitchen table. Feeling bad, she pulled Draco close to her, "Okay, cry all you want."

"Oh Pansy, don't let him be such a spoiled brat," Blaise snorted when Pansy stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh who am I kidding? You just as much a spoiled brat as he is, if not _more_."

"Do you hear anything Draco? I think I hear this little nasty buzzing sound."

"Yes, I know what you're talking about, Gods what is that ruthless sound?" Both burst into fits of laughter and Draco momentarily forgot the predicament he was stuck in. But as soon as their laughter died down, he realized he wouldn't get to joke around with them that much anymore, for he no longer had any of his little gizmos, he couldn't see them anymore because all his time was to be taken up by work; oh life would be _hell._

"Dracoooo," Narcissa sing-song voice floated into the kitchen via the intercom, "you father just spoke with your boss; they need you in earlier. We said you'd love to come in early, you're to be there in one hour. Toodle-loo!"

"Tell her I'm ill! Tell him I'm so sick," Draco begged Blaise, but when the Italian made no movements, Draco slumped against Pansy. "This is not happening."

"I'm afraid it is baby, so sorry," Pansy tried her best to give him a reassuring smile, but when Draco's look of pure unhappiness did not fade, she sighed. "Draco, come on it's not that bad. I had a job once—

"Pansy, pornography does not count as a job," Blaise cut her off. Draco snickered at the remark and pulled away from Pansy and began to stand. "I think what Pansy is trying to say is that, having a job wont b so bad. I mean, your dad is really your boss, he's bound to cut you some slack."

"Yeah," Draco smiled, believing Blaise's words, "you're right. He's my dad, he wouldn't actually make me do any work."

_Yeah, you're right. He's my dad; he wouldn't actually make me do any work_. Draco whole-heartedly regret saying those words, for they had set him up for hell. When he arrived at the hotel earlier in the day, he was introduced to the staff and interviewed by his manager. When he was approved of, he was sent to the main desk to meet with the manager of the cleaning department. According to them, his father had said he'd take _any_ job available, and that one job just happened to be maid service. He hated cleaning his own room, so this was too much for him. _Make sure you make the room spotless little Malfoy, this place needs to be sparkling;_ he could hear the head maids nasal voice mocking him in the back of his mind, as the other maids cackled away as his luck. He'd just finished cleaning his second room when she'd popped in to check on him. She strolled casually in, her hands gliding over the wooden desk. Her eyes glanced across the entire room before she inspected her fingers, frowning she looked back and Draco with an aghast look.

"Obviously Malfoy senior never taught you your edict on cleanliness," she sneered at him after brushing the dust off her fingers. "You're going to have to redo this entire room and while you're at it, go back and redo the one you did for this. If this is bad, that must be ten times worse."

"But—

"No buts, you're new here, you do what you are told," her beady eyes starred him down and Draco felt as tiny as an ant. Amerada sneered at him, her portly body moving as she chuckled outwardly. Her skirt swept across the table as she turned on her heel and made her way for the door. "You best learn to bit your tongue now, little one. I will not treat you any different because you're a Malfoy." She slammed the door after her and Draco flinched at the sound. Taking one deep breath, he began to clean the room all over again, making sure that every inch this time really sparkled.

Four and half hours later, Draco was allowed to have a break. Fully exhausted, Draco did the first thing he could do when he needed to complain to some one, and called Pansy and Blaise. After a bit of persisting, the two promised to hurry as fast as humanly possible to the hotel in order to save him. After getting his sworn vow, Draco hung up his ugly, little pretend phone and made his way for the lobby. He'd just finished cleaning the 5th suite on the 11th floor when he was told he could take a half an hour to forty-five minute break. It wasn't until Draco had gone through the rooms that he realized how much the rooms resembled the ones of his house, though they weren't as extravagant and well furnished as the ones at home, the rooms were beautiful. His grand-father had an undeniable talent when it came to architecture and interior design, though his grandmother was the one who picked out all the designs. Then when his father took over, all the hotels were renovated and updated in style, so to be fair, all of his family were extremely talented; except for him. There was his father, a highly respected businessman known all over the world. then his mother, a beautiful supermodel since her earlier twenties, a woman of culture. And then there was him, though he was gorgeous, there was no doubt in his mind he was the _most_ attractive man of his age, but that was all. In the public eye, he had no substance. All he cared about was money and fame, nothing more seemed to play out for his role in society, and it was true. He hated knowing it, but there was no way of escaping what he was.

Draco held his rag tightly to his chest, shutting his eyes and taking in deep breaths. He hated coming to the realization of what he was. He was a good for nothing, spoiled brat. He absolutely deserved this job. _**No, you deserve a worse job Draco, you're pathetic. Living off your daddy, whining like a little bitch when you don't get exactly what you want**. _Draco shook his head, arguing with himself. _No, I'm not a whiny bitch, I'm not spoiled. I…I am not worthless._ Draco hated how unsure he sounded, when talking to just himself. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. **_You are worthless and you know it, why bother arguing?_** "NO!"

Just as Draco screamed aloud, he lost sight of where he was going and collided with another boy, sending them to the floor in a tangled mess. Draco did not care to attempt to get up, however the other boy was frantically apologizing and trying to free himself. When he finally got to his feet, he stuck a hand out for Draco and the blonde took it, dusting himself off when he finally stood. Looking at the other boy for the first time, he gasped. This was no boy, but a young man. His raven hair hung in his bright, emerald eyes in a way that sent chills up and down Draco's spine. His clothes, a little disheveled, clung tightly to his body and showed off his figure. "I'm so sorry, I didn't…I wasn't…I'm sorry, I can't…pay for that…but I can fix it," when the other male said these words, Draco noticed the shattered vase on the floor beside them and smiled at the boys words.

"Don't worry about it," he grabbed the other males shaking hand and shook it warmly, "my name is Draco, Draco Mal…Mallicutty."

"Hi…I'm Harry Potter, I think," Draco smiled when Harry slapped himself lightly. "No, I am Harry Potter, just a very confused Harry Potter. I'm so sorry about the vase though…I don't know what I was doing or why I wasn't paying any attention. Okay, that's a lie, I do know why but…still, I am never this careless."

"Don't worry, no one usually even checks on the vases, either way the Malfoy's have so much money and broken vase means nothing to them."

"I wish I could be like that," Harry said to his feet. "I'm sorry…I better go."

"Don't, I just went on break, why not walk with me," Draco smiled when Harry nodded. He basked in the innocence of Harry. It was like he was a child. Harry remained silent as they walked to the elevator. "So, where do you hail from?"

"Uhm, I live in the city actually…just had to get away I guess you could say," Harry shrugged a little with his words. He looked uncertain next to Draco and the blonde felt a tinge of humiliation.

"I know what you mean," Draco smiled reassuringly and they remained in silence 'til the reached the lobby. When the elevator doors opened Draco was crushed by two bodies and in that moment he mentally smacked himself for forgetting he'd called Blaise and Pansy to his rescue.

"Aw Drakey baby, I'm so sorry," Draco felt his stomach flip over from the look Harry was giving him as Pansy attempted to make him feel better.

Trying to get himself out of this situation, he pushed her off her coolly and looked to Harry, "These are my weird friends, Pansy and Blaise."

"I resent that comment about me being weird Drakey," Pansy straightened herself out. She looked at Blaise for some support but the boy just shrugged, when she looked back to Draco, her eyes fell on the boy beside him. She snorted at his obvious lack of wealth and was about to make a remark when she saw Draco's pleading gaze. Confused, she turned back to Blaise but he seemed to not care at all, for he was far more interested in the girl checking in at the front desk. "Hi, I'm Pansy Parkinson, but you're probably heard of me already."

"Actually, no I haven't," Harry said honestly. Draco couldn't hold back a smile from Harry's confession, though Pansy looked outraged. He decided to intervene before anything got to crazy, "Harry's a customer here and I was helping him out, if my boss sees you, she'll murder me Pans, how about you guys go out and get something to eat and come back at the end of my shift."

"Draco Lucius Mal," Pansy began to shriek, but before she could finish his last name he flung himself onto her and covered her mouth.

"There was a huge spider on your face, like about to crawl in, didn't want that to happen," he lied, hoping Pansy would take the bait. When she began to scream for her life and smack herself in the face, Draco took the opportunity to flee. He grasped Harry by the wrist and pulled him back into the elevator and pressing the 11 button. "Sorry, she's mentally ill."

Harry laughed softly at the remark. "It's fine; she's just a character, nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah a character," Draco smiled as he waited for the elevator doors to open up once again. He let the raven haired boy exit first and then got out himself. Harry stood awkwardly for a moment, giving Draco the time to admire the other. He really was better looked than Draco had first thought. Now as he paying all his attention to Harry, he came to the realization Harry was in women's clothing. It didn't make much sense, but not everything had to. It didn't matter much anyway; the clothing seemed to work with Harry's somewhat feminine frame. Draco liked it. "So…how long do you plan on staying here?"

"As long as the money I have allows me," his words were honest and Draco liked that. He usually was surrounded by fake people trying to impress him, but Harry was different. Maybe it was because he had no clue who Draco actually was or maybe he just really was honestly a nice guy. Either way, Draco didn't care, he already liked Harry.

"Where do you plan on going after you run out of money," Draco was curious to know more about Harry."

"Since that problem has occurred, I haven't really worried about it yet. I guess I should, this place is really expensive, I'm sure to run out of money soon."

"If…you ever need a place to stay, you can stay with me," Draco knew that by inviting Harry to stay with him, that he'd have to eventually tell him who he was, but since the problem had yet to arise, he wasn't worrying.

"That's really nice of you, thank you," Harry smiled genuinely at Draco and the blonde knew he was worth it. Of course, he needed to learn more about Harry, but all that didn't matter right now. He was just happy to have made a friend who didn't see him as a spoiled brat, but as a sweet guy.

_Life's sure looking up. Maybe this job wasn't such a bad idea after all._


	4. Who are you?

_**Save Me**_

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: Okay, about my story, if you enjoy it: REVIEW IT! If there are some things you think I can work on, leave some NICE suggestions! If you have something you'd really like to see, leave me a review and I promise, if I can work it in, I will! Enjoy.

**Authors OTHER Note:** So sorry for the wait on this one guys. I got my hands on an old story of my own and I got lost in that world. plus I've been working a lot lately, then there is the play, and school. Yuck I know. I have midterms, so that means more writing will get done I hope you love this.

**Chapter Three: Who are you?**

_who are you to judge the life I live?_

_I know Im not perfect-and I don't live to be._

_But before you start pointing fingers.._

_make sure your hands are clean._

The fire blazed within its place of the bedroom, lighting the room with a dim glow of orange haze. The two men sitting on the sofa together, eased into themselves calmly as they sipped at their coffees. The younger of the two men was the first to break the silence. Shakily, he pulled his feet from the table and turned to the other. His breathing increased when he noticed just how calm the other man seemed to be._ Eerie._ Their serene setting seemed to pick up speed. All the small sounds he once heard now deafened him, the fires crackling sound penetrated his brain. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out._ Shit, shit, shit, this is not good!_ He felt his heart race increase as he realized what he was about to do. The comfort zone he'd sat in for so long was now gone; there was no hiding anymore. He had to explain what happened.

"Get it out Thomas, I don't have all day," Marcus took a long sip form his coffee before looking to the younger man for his response. When Tom sat still, in a semi-state of shock, Marcus rolled his eyes and clasped the other man on the back. "Thomas, you seem afraid, what's the problem?"

"Harry…" Thomas's voice was barely above a whisper.

Marcus's eyes shifted to the other male, a look of minor concern worn upon his face. "What's wrong with Harry? He's gotten hurt? I thought I could trust you to watch him for a fucking day or two Tom. How irresponsible can you be?"

"Marcus…it's not that," Tom could feel his throat closing up. He couldn't believe what in his mind had told him it would be safe and a smart idea to tell Marcus what happened. Walking there earlier in the day, with the sun still beaming, it all seemed to be right. Marcus wouldn't blame him, he'd blame Harry. He'd get every last police officer on the case to find Harry. But now, sitting across from the seething Marcus, all he wished he could do was run. _I'm an idiot._

"Then what is it! Tell me, I'm growing fucking impatient!"

"Marcus, look I didn't know what to do…he had a…" Tom couldn't bear to say anymore, he felt so small beside Marcus. He stood from his seat and began pacing back and forth before the fire, tears brimming in his eyes. It was then he realized how mixed up he really was. When Marcus found it, it would be the death of him.

Marcus was at wits end; he shot up from his seat and stormed over to Tom. Pulling the younger man closer, he held his shoulders straight and starred the other man down. "You tell me right fucking now. What happened to Harry? He had a what? What the fuck is going on here?"

"Harry ran away Marcus," Tom was freely crying now as Marcus stood in shock. Letting Tom fall to his knees, Marcus took a step back. There was a long silence, minus Tom's tears, between the two. Tom was lost in his own world till a sharp pain in his side woke him up. Marcus had kicked him directly in his rib cage. Doubling over, he held onto his side, knowing there was more to come, "I tried to stop him! But he got my gun…I didn't know what to do!"

Marcus ignored him and began to violently kick him repeatedly in the side. He didn't stop until Tom began to spit up blood all over the place. Sick of the other man, he picked up Tom by his shirt collar and heaved him up onto his own two feet. His blood boiling, he pulled the younger man out of the room and pushed him down the stairs. "You realize now Tom, you either die or you find him. You have a week."

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

It felt good to be in men's clothes_. Really good_. Harry plopped back onto the suite's couch, resting his head on a fluffy white pillow. For the first time in…ever, Harry was able to wake up when he wanted to, which was 11 AM. Of course, this was after going to bed as late as he wanted, after going to the hotel club. He wasn't told what to do first; he wasn't forced into any tasks. He could lie around all day, in his pajamas, watching television and sipping on a nice warm tea. No one told him what to do and how to do it. He was left alone by everyone, to get to know himself. Life out of captivity was perfect. Every last detail of being free was amazing. Being in Malfoy Manor was like heaven. There was maid service, so he didn't have to clean up after himself. Room service, so he could get food brought to him, right when he wanted. It was like he was stuck in the perfect dream, and he never wanted to get out.

"Maid service," Harry groaned loudly. He'd forgotten to hang the do not disturb sign on the door earlier. Harry waited a moment, the voice sounded again, "hello?" At once he recognized the voice as someone he knew.

"Come on in," he rolled onto his stomach and watched the door from his comfy position on the couch. Slowly, it opened up and the one and only Draco stood in his doorway. "You missed me so much, you pretended to be the maid, _just_ to come see me? How adorable."

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco sneered, pulling his cart into the room. "I am the maid. Would you like me to come back another time?"

"No, you can clean for me now, I'd prefer to watch," Harry smiled coolly before pulling his body back into a sitting position, resting on his calves.

"I'm actually supposed to have you leave…but I guess it'd be nice to have some company for a change," Draco smiled back at Harry and began to pick up random candy wrappers off the floor. "You're a total pig."

"I know, I can't help myself," Harry smiled once again. There was something about Draco that just made it hard not to smile. Harry was usually a shy person, but being around Draco instantly brought out his flirtatious side, the side he wanted to stay away from. He couldn't get involved with anyone; he had to keep on the down-low if he didn't want Marcus to find him. But Draco's sexy smile and toned physic were things that would make this a difficult task. "So…what do you do for fun beside clean my room?"

Draco chuckled lightly, tilting his head back as he dusted various parts of the room. "I…do stuff."

"Gee, that was insightful. Well now there are no more questions I can possibly ask of you. There's no point, I now know everything," Harry smiled when Draco turned on his heel and put his hands on his hips at him. "But seriously…what do you do?"

"Well, I like to go to clubs…when I get the chance, and I like to do a lot of physical things with my friends," Draco turned from Harry, blushing when the raven-haired boys mouth hung agape, "Not those kinds of things! Sports! Sports!"

"Ahem, I knew that," Harry giggled. The two remained silent for a few moments. Draco's concentration was on his cleaning, hoping he could it done as fast as possible so he could take his break here and spend some time actually talking, one on one with Harry. Ever since their meeting the previous day, he had thought of nothing but Harry.

Harry sat and watched the blonde for a moment. There was something vaguely familiar about Draco that he could not place. He'd seen him somewhere before…heard of him some how, but he'd forgotten where and why. It made little to no sense to Harry. The only people Harry ever had a chance to hear of where the famous men and women of London. The girls back from Marcus's home would occasionally get tabloids and fill everyone in on the latest gossip. But it wasn't possible that was how Harry had seen Draco. Draco was a no one, just like him, a lonely maid boy. Still the thought persisted at his mind. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm tired," Harry closed his eyes and lied back into the couch, wiggling around till he found the perfect spot. Cuddling up against the warmth of the couch, he settled his head on the pillow as he heard Draco humming lightly behind him. Draco said nothing to his confession of tiredness, but continued to clean. The rhythmic pattern of Draco's dusting, spraying, and polishing lulled Harry into a light sleep.

Finally finished with his task, Draco pulled out his small work phone. He dialed his boss's number and sat down on the edge of the couch, by Harry's feet. He tilted his head to side, waiting for Lynn to pick up. "Hello?"

"Hi, I've been here since 9, it's almost 2 now, I'm taking my break now. I just cleaned the fifth suite on floor 12. Our customer is beyond pleased with my cleaning ethics," Draco snapped the phone shut, not caring at the moment what Lynn had to say. Taking in a deep breathe, he got to his feet, marched to the door and locked it. He could hear Harry's cadenced breathing behind him and it made his heart melt. Ready to talk, he made his way to the edge of the couch, where he sat, shaking the raven-haired boy.

"No…stop it Marcus…" Harry cried out, pushing Draco away from him. "I'm not going with you…stop it. Please…stop it."

"Shhh," Draco leant closer to Harry's ear, whispering softly into it, "it's Draco…it's Draco."

Sitting up, his breathing intensified, Harry looked directly at Draco. "Oh my god…you scared me, I'm so sorry. How long have I been asleep? Did I fall asleep talking to you?"

"You fell asleep maybe…30 minutes ago? No, you told me you were tired and then just fell asleep. I'm sorry, do you want to go back to sleep? I have break now, that's why I woke you up. I was wondering if you were up to getting room service, on me, and just talking with me till I had to go back to working."

"That sounds…perfect."

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

It'd been almost two weeks since Draco had met Harry. Every day, it became a routine, that he'd clean all the rooms, get to Harry's and take a break in there. With each day they got to know each other, the warmth inside Draco grew colossal. Every time he saw Harry, he couldn't help but get butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Harry was something new. Not the new kind of thing that everyone wanted, but something new that you stumbled upon and realized it was exactly what you'd been looking for. Draco had been with tons of girls and guys, all of them just another lust filled relation, no romance. Though, he'd dated one guy, almost a year back, Theodore Nott. Draco thought it was love, that Theodore felt the same as he did. But Draco was mistake, just like all the others before him; he was in it for the money. He was the only one to blow past Draco's unsuspecting exterior and get to know him. He was the only person, in the history of love, to ever win the heart of Draco Malfoy. And all he did with it was use Draco as his little toy and when he realized he'd squeezed all he could out of Draco; his time was done, and at the he left. Ever since Draco never trusted anyone, sure he 'dated' but no one ever got to know him. There were no late night conversations or phone calls waking him up. There were no important date nights or reserved times to be together. They were cheap flings that cost him little to nothing; and until he met Harry that was exactly how he planned to live his life.

There was one problem though. With their budding new friendship, Draco felt overly confident about himself. But he remained Draco Malfoy, the rich brat who lied to the only non-fake person he'd ever met, just because he was afraid of how he'd react. Harry seemed to really enjoy his company, and though they were just getting to know one another, seemed to seriously confide in Draco. With each new secret he learned about Harry, Draco felt guiltier and guiltier. The more he got to know Harry, the harder it was to keep up his lie. He had to create tinier lies in order to keep his story believable. The whole situation was completely tiring.

Today was the first day that he wasn't going to work, but he decided to stop by the hotel anyway. He'd told Harry he'd come visit, and he intended on asking Harry out to lunch. When he arrived at the hotel, things seemed to be bustling and he felt slightly bad for stopping in and not helping, but he had a task at hand. _Get Harry out of the hotel_! He made his way to the main desk, which was the least busy of all, and asked Karen if she could phone Harry's room. When he picked up, Draco told her to inform Harry that he was on his way up and would appreciate if he was getting ready. After a quick conversation with Karen about tomorrow's schedule, he made his way to the elevators. Just when he thought he was in the clear, he heard a screech behind him and at once he felt his lungs gasping for air as someone squeezed him tightly. Fighting the person off, he turned around to see some brunette girl giggling and smiling like a loon at him.

"Drakie, baby, I've missed you so much," Draco sneered at her baby-talk tone and turned on his heel. When the girl realized what he was doing, she grabbed him tightly by the wrist and whipped him around. "Where you going doll face? You haven't answered a single one of my phone calls. I've been trying to get a hold of you for days now baby."

"Melanie…Jennifer, whatever it is, we are through," Draco wriggled his wrist free of her nasty clutch and made to leave once more. But this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. At once the girl broke out into tears, screaming at him. Knowing better than to walk away from a situation like this, Draco turned back to the girl and grabbed her by the wrist and dragger her to the elevator with him. When the doors shut closed, he turned to her. "Look, I'm sorry if you thought that me having sex with you meant that I loved and wanted to be with you…I was going through a rough time, it was wrong of me. Okay? But we're not together, we never will be."

"But…but," she began, her eyes welling up with tears. It wasn't like this had never happened before, he was gorgeous. Realizing they were getting pretty high up, he hit the number 9 and waited for them to stop on that level. When the doors opened, he pushed the whining girl out and waved his goodbye, the doors shutting in her face.

"Women," Draco shook his head, trying to forget that little scene. When the doors opened up on the 11th floor, Draco took in a deep breathe, stepped out of the elevator, and let out his breathe. The walk to Harry's room seemed much longer than usual, but when he finally got there, it felt like he didn't have enough time to fix himself up. He'd left the house without doing his hair, so it hung around his face, sprinkling his face occasionally. He'd randomly chosen his clothes from his closet, not really caring if he matched (luckily he did!). Taking in and letting out took breathes, he knocked on Harry's door, only to be startled when Harry opened it mid-knock.

"Hello Draco!" Harry walked off from the door way, grabbing his wallet of the night stand. Looking around, he made sure that everything was in place before looking to Draco and smiling. "So what are we doing?"

"It's a surprise," Draco smiled, motioning for him to follow. "I'm sure you'll love it."

They remained in silence till they reached the Lobby. In fear of another episode, Draco grabbed Harry by the wrist and made his way to the exit as fast as possible. Luckily, no one stopped them and they made it out alright. _Step one: success!_ Draco smiled to himself, turning to Harry, only to see the raven-haired boy bugging out. _He really must hate it out here._ "Don't worry! Nothing bad can happen to you outside."

"You really don't know the half of it," Harry muttered. Taking Draco's hand as a source of comfort, he followed slightly behind, watching everything around him. This was his first time in town since the night he'd driven with the taxi man here. It'd been nearly two weeks since his escape and no one had turned up looking for him, at least not yet. Everyone amongst the crowd seemed either too preoccupied to care about anyone else or happy to be there. Everyone belonged, except Harry. He was far from where he belonged. He was meant to be on a bed, performing oral sex for a married man, because that was his _job._

Draco squeezed Harry's hand and turned back to him, "we're almost there, excited?" The look on Draco's face turned Harry's mood around. He looked so happy to be with him, showing him new places, Harry couldn't stay upset. He nodded happily before looking away, taking in the newer scenery. They were coming close to a big restaurant, with seats outside and on the rooftop. It looked very expensive and Harry felt awkward at once, only being in a pair of old jeans and a plain green tee-shirt. "This is it!"

Draco dragged him to the front, pushing past others waiting, they stood before a woman holding some menus and looking into a book. When she looked up, her face instantly brightened with a smile. "Hello Draco! The family coming in?"

"No, just me and Harry," with this the woman noticed Harry her smile faded. She gave him the quick once over before nodding disapprovingly to herself. She looked into the book, then to Draco. She motioned for them to follow her. She led them up a flight of stairs, and once again they were outside. She pointed to a table and handed them menus, and with that she was gone. Draco shrugged and pulled Harry to their table, pulling out the raven-haired boy's seat and waiting for him to sit. After Harry was situated, Draco took the seat across from him. "This place is great…my mother tends to spoil me on my birthday and takes me here."

"Gee…you're lucky," Harry bit his lip in thought. Draco kept himself occupied by skimming through his menu, even though he already knew what he wanted. Harry looked around, still nervous that someone may spot him. After a few moments of nothing, he checked out the menu, not that hungry. "It's kind of cold."

"Your cold?" Harry nodded lightly. Draco stood up, pulling off his black sweatshirt and wrapping it around Harry. "I hope that helps."

"It does. Thank you," Harry looked back to the menu. "Everything sounds so good…and expensive. I don't think I brought enough money. I hid I all, safety reason of course."

"Harry, you're hilarious," Draco laughed at Harry's stubbornness. "You're not paying. Don't worry, okay? Just enjoy yourself, for me?"

"Okay…I can do that," Harry took the time they were waiting to narrow down his choices to two things. He contemplated them the whole time till their waitress arrived. Again, the second she saw Draco her face lit up and she began to chat with him. At little annoyed that Draco was focusing his attention on some random girl; Harry cleared his throat loudly, grabbing the attention of both people. The girl blushed crimson and asked him what he wanted to drink and if he was ready to order. Nodding, Harry told her exactly what he wanted, shut his menu, and handed it off to her. Draco repeated and then waved her good-bye.

"Sorry about that…I know her from school, I haven't seen her in two years. She wanted to 'catch up.' So, I was thinking…I don't work on Tuesday, want to come with me, on another surprise…uhm date?"

Harry blushed at Draco's mentioning of the word date. Since Draco had told him he was taking him to lunch, Harry was wondering if it was as a date or if it was a friendly gesture. The blonde had already told him that he was bisexual, so there was the chance that Draco was interested in him. Still, the thought that anyone could see him as more than a play toy remained strong is his brain. Draco probably was going to use this date as a way to get into Harry's pants. _ Stop that! Draco's extremely nice. If he really wanted sex, he could have gotten it out of you in your room. _ Harry knew that his voice of reason was right, but something still bugged him. He couldn't possibly have any one actually want _him_. People only came to him for sex.

"Are you okay Harry," Draco reached across the table, grabbing hold of Harry's hand. "You're very pale."

"I-I get that way…sometimes," Harry shook his head, pulling his hand from Draco's as looked back to Draco. "I think I should get back to the hotel."

At once Harry stood from his seat and darted for the door leading downstairs. Draco chased after him, following Harry down into the lobby of the restaurant and then out the door. The raven-haired boy scurried across the street, tearing down the sidewalk in the direction of the hotel. Draco held onto his heart as he chased after Harry as fast as possible. The blonde almost caught up to him, but just as he was about to grab Harry, he turned the corner and Draco has to speed around it to try and catch up. By now, Harry had time to blend into the crowd and Draco was having a hard time depicting him from the others. He saw Harry out of the corner of his eye as the raven-haired teen whipped open the Manor door and ran inside. Content at having found Harry, Draco rushed into the hotel and looked around for Harry. When he was no where to be found, he made his way towards the elevators to rush to the boys room. He waited patiently for the elevator to arrive, but just as he was about to step into it, someone grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him back.

Lucius Malfoy smiled at his son cunningly, pulling him along behind him. Draco ripped his arms from his father's clutches and made his way back towards the elevators. "Draco, where in the name of Merlin do you think you're going?"

Draco didn't even bother looking back at his father. He knew that he'd regret it later, but he was worried about Harry. Once more, he pressed the button for the elevator and waited patiently. When Lucius realized he wasn't going to answer him, he bellowed, "Draco you better not be ignoring me. You get back here right now or you'll regret having a mind of your own," Lucius snarled when Draco did not budge. The older Malfoy moved with grace across the hotel lobby, grabbed his son with tightness and pulled him towards the door. "Never disobey me in public again, you little bastard."

"My friend is in trouble, I just wanted—

"I don't care Draco; you are not to embarrass me, especially not in front of our paying costumers!" Lucius tightened his grip. "We have a press meeting today at 2 pm, then a family photo shoot. You also have an interview with Teen Vogue, so I suggest you pull yourself together and get over your silly little friend. I said you had to work here, not build a career here."

"But father—

"Enough, there will be no more talk of it," with that Lucius turned towards the paparazzi, smiling a genuine Malfoy smile. He whirled Draco around and pinched his back, forcing the younger boy to mimic his actions. After a few snapshots had been taken, he pulled the blonde along and out of the hotel, towards the limousine.

Harry stepped back from his hiding place, behind the curtains of the hotel entrance. Confused, he watched as Draco and his father drove off in their limousine. Biting his lower-lip in thought, Harry spun on his heel and made his way towards the elevator. _Draco was…Draco Malfoy? Draco was…a liar?_

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

_I knew he was too good to be true._

_Why would any one like you? You're pathetic._

_He's a liar, just like the rest of them. Don't bother._

_You fell in his trap and now, you just look like an idiot._

_You're good for nothing and you'll always be that way._

Harry rolled over on his side, his insides rolling with him. He felt like he was literally stuck in hell. His skin was burning as his insides boiled within him. His mind fried as he tried to contemplate what to do. Just three days ago, he realized how big of a fool he'd been played to be. Draco 'Mallicutty,' actually the infamous Draco Malfoy, had tricked him into believing he was this down to earth, sweet as sugar, guy who lived a normal life and worked your average job. But that was not the case. Draco was in fact _not_ your average nineteen year old. He was a hotel heir, richer than God. His life was made. He knew who he was, he knew where he was going; he lived _the_ ideal life, the life everyone else dreamed and hoped for in their beds late at night. He was a gorgeous guy, who could have anyone he wanted, anyone in the world. Out of all the people he could torture with his ruthless game, he chose the one oblivious character, Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the boy who had no clue who he really was. He didn't grow up knowing either of his parents; he didn't even have them now. He worked his entire life to make a living for everyone but himself. He had no clue where he was going and how he'd get there. The one thing the two teenage boys shared was they never got to know what luck was. Draco never knew luck, because he didn't need it. Harry didn't know luck, because it never shed its light upon him.

Harry turned over in his bed, rolling onto his bare back as he starred up at the ceiling. _How could you be such an idiot?_ The most embarrassing aspect of the whole ordeal was that the hotel he currently stayed in was none other that the Malfoy family owned hotel. _Luck hated him_. He could feel the contents of his stomach moving around in an uncomforting manner. Everything was hazy and he was ready to vomit, but he knew it wasn't because he was sick. It was the fact he'd actually been that big of an idiot to believe the lies Draco peddled to him. The worst part of it being the fact he believed and loved Draco because of them. He'd actually begun to love Draco, though it was far too soon to actually judge that, and he was too unsure of himself to really be sure of anything, he just knew. The blonde got to him in a way that sent shivers up and down his spine. He barely knew him, but even with that being fact, Harry still felt his heart race every time he saw Draco. _You should have gotten to know him better. How could you be such an idiot?_

The mental anguish was killing him. Harry was fighting a mental battle against his inner intellectual and was obviously losing. Ever since he'd seen Draco and his father in the lobby, Harry had locked himself up in his room, telling all the maids to leave him alone. For the past three and a half days, he laid up in bed, tormenting himself and crying. Not just crying because Draco had gotten to him, but because Draco was the first person he trusted, _an obviously stupid move,_ and already he'd betrayed him. Everyone Harry ever cared for was just another liar, covering up all their bullshit. They all thought he really was the biggest idiot alive_, which you have to be._

"Mr. Potter," a loud banging came from the door and Harry groaned loudly. "You have to come out of your room. We need to clean it up, alright? It'll take us an hour. We know you're up."

Harry didn't bother arguing, he'd been blowing them off this whole time, the least he could do was leave for an hour. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed the only sweatshirt he had, pulled it over his shoulders, tousled his hair, and grabbed some spare cash. He ripped open the door, pushed past the maid service, and made his way to the elevators. _Maybe lunch in the café will calm me down? Yes, perhaps._

The lobby was near empty when Harry arrived, something he thanked God for. Though, in the corner of his eye he saw two people roughly around his age checking in at the front desk. A girl with bushy brown hair looked around the lobby anxiously biting her nails as the redhead beside her rubbed his hand lovingly on her back._ Sodding lovers. _Harry turned away from the couple and looked to make sure no one else was in the lobby before crossed towards the café's entrance. He could feel the couple's presence coming up behind him._ Most likely having a lovely brunch together_, Harry gagged at the thought. Love seemed impossible to him. It had to be, why else hadn't he ever experience real love?

"Ahem," Harry spun around to see the bushy haired girl smile at him lightly. "You…you're kind of standing directly in front of the door…"

"Oh…yeah," Harry stepped out of their way, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine!" She beamed at him, latching onto the red-heads arm. "Have you ever eaten here before?"

"Once or twice, it's alright…I guess."

"It's our first time! We just got married, young I know, but ago has nothing to do with love," Harry chuckled as the girl went ahead to tell him all about their wedding. "Oh…by the way, I'm Hermione. This is Ronald. We're the Weasleys," she turned to Ron and smiled brightly, "I can never get tired of saying that!"

"Nice to meet you guys," Harry extended his hand, shaking both of theirs, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

For the first time, Ron spoke up, "Whoa, Harry Potter? Any relation to James Potter?"

"Uhm, I…yeah, that's my dad," Harry thought quickly about what he knew of his family and then nodded curtly, confirming his facts. "Why?"

"My dad was just talking about your family, at the wedding, he went to boarding school with your dad," Ron smiled, "he told me about everyone there. All the good times had. He was drunk, of course."

"Hah," Harry wished he knew what it was like to have a drunken father who_ wasn't_ a drunk or an abusive. He wished he just knew what it was like to have an actually father, period. "That's funny to hear."

"Would you care to join us for lunch Harry," Hermione smiled tenderly and Harry felt the ache in his heart fade lightly. It wouldn't hurt to eat and possibly make friends. Plus, they knew something about his parents. That was a definite upgrade compared to Draco's lack of knowledge.

"I'd love to!"

They got a seat near the window, much to Harry's discomfort, and basked in the sunlight. Hermione showed Harry the pictures from the wedding and then told the whole story of their meeting, in women's draw out detail. Ron, right after, asked Harry what sports he liked and if he played any at all. Though Harry barely got to play any, when he did, he loved to play football, which made Ron jump for joy. They spent a good amount of time discussing American football, what teams were good, and what times just plain sucked. Then Ron asked about Harry's love life and he tried to tell them, without leading onto his past, that he currently just wanted to rest his life and see where he could go. Hermione, obviously wanting to hang out with Harry again, asked how long he was there for, and he told them the truth. He had no clue how long, but until his credit would allow him. This seemed to amuse Ron very much. Harry admired Hermione's intelligence and loved Ron's humor; the two were a perfect couple.

"Harry, we were going into the city tomorrow, would you care to join us?" Hermione asked as they traveled to the elevators together. He would love to go into the city for the second time, but being exposed to the public scared the shit out of him, he had no clue what goons Marcus had out looking for him. But Hermione's puppy dog eyes and Ron's excited look was too much for him.

"I'd love to."

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

Tom Riddle snorted up his last bit of coke, leaning back into the chair and letting the drugs get to him. His fiancé lay on the mattress beside him, her eyes bugged out as she watched him. They'd been running for a week and a half now from Marcus and his thugs. When it became obvious that they weren't going to find Harry, Tom suggested the one thing that they could do to rid themselves of all the drama: run. At first it was the perfect idea. They barely had any money, since Harry had taken it all, but they had cocaine that Tom was supposed to sell for Marcus, but instead sold it to get themselves enough money to hotel hop. They'd gotten out of London within the first two days, taking taxis, buses, and hitching rides. They abandoned their condo and everything in it besides the few clothes they'd need in order to survive. After reaching Cambridge, everything seemed to be going in their favor that was until their run it.

They'd just settled into a nice hotel in Cambridge, when they decided it was time to celebrate their escape. There was a bar right down the road that they decided to grab a couple of drinks from and then go back to the hotel to celebrate over it. Everything was going according to plan until someone turned up the news. It seems that Marcus had connections with all of England officials and had informed them of Tom and Melissa's run away. They were labeled as escapee killers/drug addicts and it was said that anyone who turned them in would get a hefty amount of cash. They managed to flee through the back door of the bar, but after that they had to leave Cambridge and began to sleep under bridges, in abandoned cars, and random places. After the first two days of seriously running, they found an old house that appeared to have been abandoned and had been living inside it ever since.

When they left, they'd taken a suitcase full of cocaine. They'd managed to sell most of it, but still had a lot left. Melissa thought, that after they were out of harms way, they'd dump it, but one night she'd seen Tom snorting, and knew at that point, that he'd finally cracked. She thought it was going to be a one time thing, but now, he no longer hid his addiction, but did it freely before her. He no longer cherished and treated her like a queen, but as if she was a no one. He saw her as just another one of Marcus's whores. Rolling onto her side on the mattress, she faced the wall as tears began to pour from her eyes. She could hear Tom behind her; she could sense his body's reaction to the cocaine. And she wanted to die._ Life has hit rock bottom._

**AUTHORS NOTE!!! **Hey, guys I just started another story _Contact_, go to my profile and check it out, please and thank you! So sorry for the wait and the short chapter, don't kill me! Next chapter will be out sooner, promise! Don't forget to check out _Contact_!!


	5. We Coexist

_**Save Me**_

**Author:** dress up romance xx

**Beta: **Chloekitty22

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: I'M NOT DEAD YET! So, about that hiatus I was basically on? Well, I was merely working on other stories. I'm so sorry to all of my avid readers. Any of you may and most certainly will yell at me about how long it took me to get you guys this one. Well, I hope you like it! Now, about my story, if you enjoy it REVIEW IT! If there are some things you think I can work on, leave some NICE suggestions! Enjoy.

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All our secrets they are daily trouble.  
Drip loose now around your head.  
You're spotless instincts are valid.  
We coexist.

_Taking Back Sunday_

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"Harry?"

The raven haired teen rolled out of his bed and onto the floor with a loud 'thud,' annoyed he'd been woken up so early. Poking his head out from underneath the covers, he saw that his clock read twelve thirty. _Far too early for a bloke like me to be up!_ He untangled himself from his bed sheets before making his way to the door. He checked himself in the mirror first; his hair was all over the place, his face red from being pushed into the pillow, and he was squinting terribly since he'd left his glasses on the bedside table. He grabbed the door handle with great force, throwing open the door and walking back towards his bed. He bent down to pick up his blanket before speaking.

"Geeze Hermione, I've known you about a week or so, but you act as if we've known each other our whole lives."

"Hermione?" the voice questioned. Harry stilled upon hearing the other person. He'd suspected Hermione had awoken him, seeing as they had made plans, like they had every other day since her and Ronald's arrival. No, the other occupant of his room was none other than that lying, piece of rotten scum—Draco Malfoy. He'd been able to avoid Draco for the past week perfectly. He hung the do not disturb sign on his door, locked his door, and had even gone far enough as putting a dresser in front of the door to keep the blonde out. He tossed all the notes Draco left for him into his fireplace, not even caring to read one. He ventured out of the hotel only with Hermione and Ron's company and was never alone for the blonde to corner him. Until now. He'd let his guard down and of course, the blonde had pounced at the idiocy.

"What do you want?" Harry asked icily.

"I haven't talked to you in a week," Draco reminded him, sitting down on Harry's sofa. When the raven-haired teen stiffened at the motion, Draco looked at him with concern. "Is something wrong Harry?"

"I don't know Malfoy," Harry turned on his heel and looked at the blonde, all the rage he'd been holding in boiled over. "Why don't you tell me?"

Draco's face dropped, fully shocked by Harry's remark. He was totally caught off-guard and he should be—he thought he'd covered his tracks nicely. But he hadn't! He'd been mistaken! Harry would have found out sooner or later, it just so happened it was sooner. "What did you just call me?"

"I called you Malfoy. That is your surname. Draco Malfoy. Son of Lucius Malfoy. Grandson of the founder of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy Senior. Funny, I don't remember you telling me all of _that_ though."

"Harry, I can explain," Draco pleaded.

"Sure you can," Harry snapped back. "You can come up with another one of your lies to try and convince me that you're good and not evil. But I'll tell you right now, that isn't going to work on me. I'm through with liars."

"Harry, you don't understand," Draco said as he approached him but Harry backed away. He pointed to the door and Draco frowned. "Please, just listen to me. I am not going to lie to you."

"Yes you will! How do I know you're not lying again? I don't! You will lie to me again," Harry shrieked, throwing his arms up in the air. Draco looked at him, stunned. The raven-haired teen he'd meet those three weeks back never seemed to have such a breaking point, but he did. His hands flew through his hair, revealing his scar. Draco had seen it a handful of times previously, but never this prominent. It glistened with sweat and looked as if it was almost pulsing. Harry stopped before him, his finger pointed directly at the open door. "You're going to leave right now and you will not be coming back here!"

"Harry, what has gotten into you?"

"GET OUT OF MY BLOODY ROOM THIS SECOND MALFOY OR I'LL POUND YOUR FACE INTO THE GROUND," Harry roared, pushing the blonde towards the exit. Draco stumbled, fully out of it, towards the door. He looked to Harry with a pleading glance before backing out of the room. He was halfway out the door when he crashed into someone trying to enter Harry's room.

It was Hermione.

She looked at Draco, confused by his presence then to Harry. When Harry refused to give up anything physically, Hermione pushed herself off the ground and rushed to his side. "I heard you screaming from all the way down the hall! Is something wrong?"

"He's just leaving," Harry stated before turning from her and making his way across the room towards his bathroom. He slammed the door shut and she heard him locking it from inside. Hermione had no clue what he said meant. She looked to Draco for some help but the blonde just shrugged at her.

"How do you know Harry?" she began skeptically, strolling towards him, "He didn't go to school with us."

"I could ask you the same question Granger." Draco said sourly, out of his daze by now. He stood starring down his former classmate, a look of pure annoyance set upon his frame. Back in high school Hermione was the nosy, know-it-all and he never liked it. Now was no different.

"Granger-Weasley," she corrected him. When Draco just sneered at her, she took in his appearance. He looked the exact same as he had back in high school. His platinum blonde hair hung loosely, framing his face. His piercing grey eyes followed her gaze. He stood up straight, his pointed nose up high. _Yup, the exact same. Probably still thinks he's better than the world_, she snorted aloud at her own joke. "You were just leaving now? Pity, now we can't have our on little reunion. Well, good day."

"I didn't say I was leaving Granger," Draco retorted. "Harry said that. I had no intentions of leaving until I explained myself to him."

"Explain what?" Hermione asked curiously. Draco blushed at her question, knowing that he was egging her onto some big speech about something or other.

"That is none of your business Granger," he snapped. She looked at him crossly before sauntering over to the mirror to fix her hair. After a few minutes of playing with her hair, Draco assumed that she wasn't going to persist the situation and he took a seat on the sofa. But he'd been wrong.

"If you are Harry's friend," she began without even so much as looking at him, "then why is he so angry with you? It's obvious he doesn't want you here. So what did you do this time Malfoy?"

"I-I…"

Hermione whirled around, a smirk planted on her face. "I never would have thought, for the life of me, I'd catch you the day you didn't know how to answer a question. I have to admit, it's beyond amusing."

"It's not funny to watch someone struggle Granger," Draco retorted, sticking his tongue out at her childishly.

"I would hardly call it a struggle Malfoy," Hermione began, "just like always, you probably brought this upon yourself. So tell me, what is it that you've done this time? Come on, it's not like you can surprise me anymore than you already have for today."

"Oh, I just love how empathetic you are Granger," Draco said with a roll of the eyes. He turned from the bushy haired girl he once, sad to say, went to school with. His evil, show-no-mercy mean streak had ended as soon as high school, but old people reminded him of old times. Granger was one to talk to him about doing _bad_ things. That weasel she loves oh-so much wasn't the only boy that she_ loved_ oh-so much. Yet the ginger never seemed to notice and or care. He was dedicated to her. His lack of knowledge and decency made Draco's skill crawl. The boy oozed mediocrity and it chilled him to the bone. But ragging on how _far_ Hermione had gotten in her life was not a main property, nor was answering any of her silly, dilapidated questions. He was here to speak to Harry.

"You're cutting sarcasm doesn't work on me Draco." She pointed out. He honestly could care less though. Without as much as a look to her, he proceeded to Harry's bathroom door. He gave it two hard knocks and waited for a response. Nothing came. He knocked once more. Harry didn't respond. Soon, he found himself banging at the damn door, wishing Harry would just at least yelp so he knew that he was still in there. But not a single sound came out of the bathroom. His concern only peaked when Granger too seemed afraid.

"Harry, please open the door," Draco cried, "let me explain."

"GET. OUT!" Harry's words were ice cold. Draco felt their everlasting chill settle into his skin. He would not forget that tone Harry used with him or how much hatred flowed between them, even though a door was blocking them off. He had no clue what to do, what to say. He'd never, in his entire life, been caught in a lie. He was always to smart and cunning to get caught by someone. Lying had once been his forte. Obviously he'd ventured to far out into the world to have realized his tactics were washed up. Harry had believed that he was an innocent, hard working maid-boy who needed the money to support himself. Harry had no clue that Draco was just the heir to the biggest, most elite hotel chain in all of Europe that was being punished for his partying. He was a fake and it never had burnt this bad.

"Can't I just explain for a moment? 5 minutes is all I ask of you!"

"Hello," Harry said into a telephone, his voice booming, "May I please have security sent up to my room? One of your maids is HARASSING ME and I cannot leave my bathroom because of this. Right away? Why, thank you ma'am!"

"Harry, you're bluffing," Draco nearly cried. "You didn't just call hotel security on me!"

"But he did," came a deep, throaty voice from the doorway. Hermione spun around with a yelp, while Draco clenched and unclenched his fists. Today was just not working out for him. "Sir, come with me."

"Richard, would you like to keep your job?"

"Uh," the man was caught off guard and he shifted on both his feet. "Yeah?"

"Then, never talk to me like that again. My father will be hearing about this, let me tell you!"

"Oh god, I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," Richard began to babble.

"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" Harry shrieked from inside his bathroom. At once Richard went into protective, security guard mode and yanked Draco by the arm out of the room. When he slammed the door shut behind them, Hermione ran and locked the door. After a minutes silence, Harry unlocked the bathroom door and fell to his knees before Hermione. "I can't stay here. I have no where else to go! I have no one to go to…"

"Come with me," Hermione said softly, kneeling beside Harry, "Come stay with me and Ron. At his house, for a while."

"I couldn't impose on you guys. I just met you."

"And yet it feels like I've known you my whole life. Please, join us at the Burrow."

"The Burrow?"

"It is what his family likes to call their house. It's a few stories tall, nothing fancy though. But it's full of family and love. I think it's the perfect place for you, right now."

"I do like that name. Okay, I'll come." Harry smiled at her but he was unsure of what he was doing. He barely knew Hermione and Ron and now he was going to live at their home, eat their food, pee in their bathroom. He didn't want to be a bother, but nothing else seemed possible.

---

"Welcome to the Burrow mate!" Ron boomed, standing with his arms wide open in the direction of his childhood home. Though he no longer lived at the Burrow, he would never leave the place for too long. The house's exterior paints were a mixture of pastel yellows, oranges, and muddy brown. Though the house was not a beautiful, elaborately done up place, it was home. There were seven stories and each story had a different set of window panes that didn't match the ones below them. No place could compare to the Burrow, it was made from hard labor and love. No other place had so much family put into it and Ron was happy to know that this was where he'd grown up. This was the one place he could go to for anything.

"Wow," was all Harry could say.

Hermione took the raven-haired teen by the wrist and dragged him up the wrap-around porch steps and to the wooden door. She banged at it a few times before they heard a rustling behind the door. Ron joined them before the door as soon as a portly woman with a wide grin and ginger hair opened the door. She wiped her hands off on her apron before pulling Hermione into a tight hug and kissing her cheek. Then she looked at Harry, confusion written upon her face. "Now, who might this be?"

"Hello," Harry said shyly, "I'm Harry Potter."

"Bless my soul," she muttered before turning away from him and rushing into the house. Harry heard her yelling for someone named Arthur before she returned to the door. At once she enveloped him into a tight hug and dragged him inside of their home.

The inside of the Burrow was just as shocking at the outside of it. There were millions of knit items hanging, lying, and being used around the house. Many inventions were at work with dismal tasks, such as washing dishes and cleaning up the table. Three other redheads were lazily spread out across a big, orange rug before the telly. They looked up to see Ron and waved the read head over. Harry assumed they were just some of Ron's many family members. He turned to Hermione only to see her rubbing her belly absentmindedly as she looked around the house. The scent of apple pie baking wafted into Harry's nose and he couldn't help but follow the scent. He was close to it when he bumped into a middle-aged man with a bald spot in the middle of his bright red hair. The whole family has _the_ hair! He was looking at Harry with his mouth agape, slightly shaking his head. "In all my life…after what happened…I had never expected this…Harry!" he too wrapped his arms around the boy and gave him a brisk, manly hug. Harry didn't know what to do, so he just stood there. They all knew something that he didn't and it was making him uncomfortable.

Ron's mother rushed back into the room, the telephone in her hand and its cord dragging behind her. "I called Sirius and told him to bring Remus over. They're taking the train over as we speak!" she dropped the phone and the elastic in the cord shot it directly back onto its station. She at once zoomed over to Harry and turned him to face her. She scanned over him for a moment before tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, he has her eyes Arthur! James's chin too, no all of him! He looks just like him Arthur."

"He does Molly. Just as I remember," the older man marveled.

Harry froze at that name. _James_. He'd heard it before. _Tom._ He looked at Ron's parents and wondered how they knew who he and his parents were. Did they know what had become of him? Did they know how he spent 19 years of his life? Had they any clue where he'd been and what he'd been doing there! They had no clue! They didn't even know how he'd ended up there. He was running away from his past and they didn't even know it. "I…I…"

"Perhaps we should explain," Molly said quietly. She motioned for Harry to take a seat in one of the wooden kitchen chairs surrounding a large family table. Molly turned to the rest of her kin and shooed them, "I want you all out of here!"

"Hey, I brought him home! Me and my wife deserve to know whatever you are about to say." Ron stood his ground, his arm wrapped protectively around his wife's waist. Molly just sighed loudly. She nodded her head and pointed to the two chairs next to Harry's seat. Twins, taller than Ron were, stood up and put their hand son their hips simultaneously and starred their mother down.

"We're older than Ronikins—

"Therefore we deserve to know!"

"Fred, George! This has nothing to do with age, but the personal matters of Harry. None of this is your business, so get out of this room immediately! You too Ginny, don't even try to fight me on this one." When neither of the three moved, she marched up to them and muttered a few words Harry could not make out. At once the youngest there, Ginny, scurried up the stairs. The two twin boys turned away from their mother and marched towards the back of the house and when Harry heard a sliding glass door open then slam shut, he knew that they were finally alone. Well, as alone as five people can be. Molly came back to the table, a warm smile firmly planted upon her face. She took the seat opposite Harry and Arthur fell into the seat next to her. "It's so great to see you again Harry."

"Again?" All of this was confusing Harry beyond reason. Ron's parents knew him and his parents. They'd seen him before and were happy to see him again. Some guys named Sirius and Remus were on their way. But for what? How did they know him? How many others knew who he was?

"How about some tea?" Molly rose form her chair and busied herself at the stove. Harry looked to Ron and Hermione for a bit of support, but all they could do was smile at him. They didn't know what Ron's parent's were about to say. After five minutes or so, Molly set tea cups in front of everyone and poured them all some tea. Harry took a small sip from his cup before placing it back on the table, starring at the older woman waiting for her to begin. "I guess you'd prefer to talk instead?"

"Yeah."

"Well Harry," Arthur began. "I worked with your father. We worked together, with a select group of others, to find criminals and bring them to justice. Not people who had moving violations or vandalistic people, but murders. Some groups, back when you were just a baby, were going around and killing people of certain religions. I was a graduate from the school your father went to, but I knew his best friend through family and went right to his best friend, Sirius for help. There were some others as well who joined us in our search, Remus and Kingsley and others. We all worked day in and day out hunting, researching, and watching for clues. We'd brought a few high-ups in these terrorist type groups to the government and police. We did well…but then your mother and father had the accident."

"In the time that Arthur was working with James," Molly said ever so softly gaining Harry's attention. "His wife, Lily, stayed with me for refuge. She's a lot younger than me, but nonetheless we bonded. Lily became like a younger sibling to me and I was protective of her. She was pregnant with you when she stayed with me and every day we spoke of what her life would be like with a child. Finally after you were born, your parents purchased a small home for all of you to live in. things were going well, but then one night after James had received a call over a lead on where the head official to this group killing a bunch of Roman Catholics were, he was speeding to get you and Lily home. It was raining out…they crashed…they both died and no one knows how you survived. We expected, since we were closest to you that we'd get custody of you…but we didn't. Since Sirius was your godfather, we though that at least he'd get to keep you. But he didn't. You went to your only remaining family, Lily's sister and her husband, the Dursleys. We tried to get them to give you up to us…but Vernon kept telling us that you didn't live there. After a while of trying to get a court case and going to their house, we realized he wasn't lying. We had no clue where you where."

There was nothing he could possibly say to that. He just sat with his mouth agape at Molly Weasley, hoping for an intrusion. Much to his luck, he got one. The front door burst open knocking into a coat stand and sending it flying across the room. Harry jumped in his seat a little, as did Hermione and Ron. However, Molly and Arthur seemed unfazed. Though when Harry looked to Molly, she was eyeing the fallen coat rack. Harry looked back to the door to see a man with long, curled black hair. Harry looked at his face, noticing how tired and worn-out this man looked. His appearance was disheveled and his button up shirt was half undone, revealing tattoos across his chest. A bunch of numbers were across the mans chest in black ink..._don't they have those for prison inmates?_ "Where is he," the man asked in a rugged voice.

Harry knew he was the one in question, so he stood. He hated having people talk about him as if he wasn't standing right there. He took in a deep breathe and then let it all out, "I am right here."

"Harry," this man muttered. Harry had no clue who he was, but obviously like before he was about to find out who he was. The man was looking at him in disbelief, his face devoid of any emotion, and then at once his eyes shone with mirth and he rushed at Harry. He scooped the boy up into his arms and lifted him off his feet and spun him around. When he set Harry back down on his feet he let him go for a second before grabbing his shoulders and looking directly into Harry's eyes, "God I never thought I'd see you again."

Before Harry could find any words, a man skinnier than the fellow before him stepped forward; tugging at this broad mans sleeves. The man let Harry go and stepped back, looking at the sheepish man heatedly. The man who'd saved Harry from yet another awkward situation turned to Harry, giving him a small smile. This man was the complete opposite of the other, in every aspect. While the other man's breathing was heavy and it was evident he was restless and wanted to start shouting, this man before him seemed very serene and patient. He was clean shaven with light brown haired that had been brushed back. His facial features were not profound but delicate and beautiful, much like a woman. His clothes were not out of place, he looked extraordinarily professional standing their in the Weasley home. He stuck out a paled hand for Harry to shake, "It seems Sirius has given us quite an entrance. Sorry about him; I'm Remus Lupin."

"Harry Potter," he replied as he shook his hand.

"Yes, I know who you are."

"It seems everyone does except for me," Harry muttered, kicking at the invisible dirt.

"Anyone for a spot of lunch?" Molly called from behind them. When no one responded she sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon. "All right, if you all must get aquatinted on empty stomachs, at least take a seat and I'll Get Remus and Sirius some tea."

"Tea sounds lovely," Remus said politely as he took his seat two spots from Mr. Weasley, "Hello Arthur."

"Good to see you Remus, you too Sirius," he beamed as the other man sat beside Remus. Harry took this as his cue to sit as well. Ron and Hermione looked as perplexed as he felt and he silently thanked that they didn't know anymore than he did. He hated feeling so left out of things. Molly only took a minute to fetch the tea and pour it for the two new guests. When she was satisfied that they were situated, she took her seat beside Arthur and starred forward at Harry.

"Harry," the man Harry assumed had been Sirius called out, "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"That's alright."

"I'm Sirius Black, you godfather."

"So I've heard." Harry wasn't sure how to react to this. He'd never had a godfather before. Were kids close to godparents? Was there such thing as 'godparents' actually? Sirius was his godfather, did he had a godmother too? Sirius seemed distraught by Harry's response, so he assumed that kids generally were close to their godparents. Well, this would prove to be interesting. He'd found some form of family! He wasn't so alone!

"How have you been?" Sirius asked the question that was on everyone's lips. At the mentioning of Harry's life, everyone stopped what they were doing. Remus stopped mid-sip and placed his tea cup back onto the table, looking over to the raven-haired teenager awaiting his answer.

Was there a point in lying? Honestly, if these people were as good as family, then should he lie to them? Would lying do him any good whatsoever? Of course not. Since when did lying ever work out? "I've been terrible."

A set of gasps went about the table, the biggest one emitted from Hermione. She sat up straight in her seat and leaned towards him, her eyebrows high up as her lips were ready to start moving. But Sirius got to Harry first, "Why…why's that?"

"It's a long story."

"We're staying here for quite sometime Harry, we can listen to it all," Hermione nearly shouted. She hated thinking she had a person all figured out and finding out she'd been completely wrong.

"Alright, but I warned you…" Harry then let into his entire life past, not bothering to leave one measly detail out.

---

"No Mr. Malfoy, he is not here any longer," Cecily the new front desk girl replied. She fingered combed her bangs for a moment before fixating her gaze upon Draco. She leaned forward, her cleavage fully exposed to Draco. "But is that why you really came here?"

"Yes," Draco replied, disgusted by her flirting tactics, "I need to speak with him immediately."

"Well," she snapped, "he's checked out. So obviously, you came here for absolutely nothing."

"What do you mean CHECKED OUT?!" Draco felt the blood inside his veins boil. Where in the name of God could Harry have disappeared to? It was expected that the petite man was not going to pick up his phone calls or let Draco into his room, but if Draco sent messages and flowers up to Harry's room that was a possibility for him to get heard. But Harry wasn't there to listen to him. He'd fled the hotel. But to where? He couldn't have possibly left for another hotel! No hotel in all of London was better than Malfoy Manor. Not one single place.

"I mean exactly that Draco," she replied as she whipped a nail file viciously form her purse. She began to file at her long, blood-red claws. She starred down at him, chomping away at her gum waiting for his next outburst.

"But this cannot be! When did he check out? I demand to see proof." This was not happening. Harry did not leave. Not when they were getting to know each other. Sure, Draco had lied to him but the blonde didn't think that would force the other teen from the hotel.

"He checked out yesterday at 11:30 AM, accompanied with a Ms. Hermione Granger-Weasley and a Mr. Ronald Weasley. I was here when they were checking out, that Harry kid left a tip for the girl working the front desk. I thought it was a laugh, but he said he was doing it because she'd gotten him out of the hotel fast and easily and that's all he needed."

"You've got to be joking," Draco groaned loudly. How was he going to possibly find Harry? By now he could be out of London! _You'll just have to use all your power to find him is all, it will be a hard task but he's worth it._

"I'm not kidding," she replied nastily, pulling him out of his reverie. He sneered at her and all she gave him was an annoyed roll of the eyes. "Oh please Mr. Over-Drah-Mah-TICK! I have other customers to take care of, so if you could kindly step out of line sir, that'd be lovely."

"I will not _kindly_," he said kindly as one would speak vomit or feces, "step out of line! I am the heir to this hotel and you will treat me with respect and as if I were the sole owner of the place. I will not be spoken to as if I was vile."

"You're worse than vile," the man behind him coughed.

"I heard that!"

"Mr. Malfoy, please get out of the line." Cecily seemed bored by him now as she picked up the phone to call management. Draco had no time for her anymore. At once, he rushed off the line and searched inside of his pockets. He pulled out his Motorola Pebl and speed dialed his best friend Blaise and then quickly three-wayed his second best Pansy. He was going to need all of their cunning, sneaky ways to find Harry._ Whatever it takes, I will find you Harry and prove to you that I'm not as much of a brat as I've been acting. I promise.­_

---

**AUTHORS NOTE! **Gee, it's been close to FOREVER since I posted a chappy here and finally, I got one out. I've now got…er 3 or 4 other stories in the mix, so the next chapter for this is not scheduled top be soon, unless I get a really great amount of reviews (those always get me writing 20x's faster). Let me know what you think! Worth the wait? Want more? REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! (Also, check out my other stories + the one that I co-author with ChloeKitty22, there's going to a link to the story in my profile later tonight, so PLEASE go read it!)


	6. His revenge

_**Save Me**_

**Author:** dress up romance xx

**Beta: **Chloekitty22

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: I'm terrible at updates. I hope that this isn't horribly tragic or anything. I need to get my butt in gear and get rid of those excuses not to write. Hope you all enjoy this one! I know, I'm totally terrible for making you wait this long for…this. Wasn't my best, but I honestly haven't found a perfect way to get the creative juices flowing. ::_sigh_::

---

Lies  
They're coming back to life  
Coming back to lies  
They're coming back to me  
The revenge of a five year old boy

_Senses Fail_

---

This was a _serious_ situation. Four and a half weeks had gone by since Harry had 'escaped' from Tom's, but this must have been a lie…_Tom probably let the little bastard run_, Marcus thought coldly. He had the police, all his detectives, and Personal Agents searching throughout all of England, but all their searches came back blank. Only one supposed spotting of the boy had occurred, but even that had turn out to be a bust. It had been a teen who looked rather similar to Harry, but was much chubbier than the boy and had brown eyes, instead of green. He was a loss of what to do to find Harry. He didn't know whose door he was going to have to kick down or what neck he'd have to slit in order to get his team cracking down on this search. Harry Potter could not be allowed to run along the streets of England with his knowledge of Marcus' group of _Servicing Men and Women_. No, this information could not leak to the mainstream. That was a definite, no no.

"Andrew!" Marcus bellowed, rolling up the sleeves to his Dolce&Gobanna dress shirt. His personal assistant shot to his side like a rocket, pen and paper at hand read to do whatever Marcus requested.

"Yes sir?" He asked, chewing at the end of his blue Ballpoint pen. His black hair was gelled back, only one stray piece hanging in-between his brown eyes. Andrew was no older than 24, but had gotten into Marcus' business nearly five years previous. He was a skinny boy, now currently being weaned off of cocaine. He was in debut to Marcus, like many others in this business, and had been forced to clean up during his work days so he could suffice as an employee. But because he had yet to quit using, his skin was paled and his eyes had purple rings below them, he looked frail.

"I need to know what you have on Harry Potter's current location," Marcus demanded. Andrew did not respond, he bit his lip and looked to the men behind Marcus, wondering if this question was rhetorical. Marcus was not asking a trick question though, for his shot the young man a death look and screamed, "IMMEDIATELY!"

"Uhm…s-sir," Andrew began uneasily, "we have n-no current location pinpointed for H-Harry P-p-potter…"

"Are you telling me, that I am paying everyone in here to work for me and for my needs and not _ONE_ of you can find a bloody teenager?! He's fucking 19 for fucks sake! How is it possible all of these grown men cannot find the damn boy! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"N-no sir!"

"You disgusting piece of filth," Marcus spat, literally. "You are of absolute no use to me. I am doing you the favor in allowing you to keep your life! You have used so many of MY drugs and could not fucking pay me back and now, when I take mercy on you, you cannot do the SIMPLE FUCKING TASKS I ask of you?! You serve me no purpose. You are done here!"

"S-sir…does that mean I am to l-l-leave?" Andrew stuttered out, barely able to move. It was not possible that Marcus was just going to have him leave. He knew too much. No, Marcus wasn't _really_ firing him.

"Well of course," Marcus said flicking his wrist. Andrew knew the motion better than any other; he was to leave at once. Without another word, he turned from Marcus and made his way to the door. He was nearly through the threshold when he felt prick in his back and then pain fully consumed his whole and everything went black. "I never said you'd leave _alive_."

There was a moments silence after this remark. The other five men who'd been conversing quietly all starred at Andrew's dying form, not knowing what to do. When Marcus laughed icily, they all knew to laugh as well. Marcus quit laughing abruptly and turned to the two men standing by the window. "You two, take care of that. Make sure no one sees you, or else you'll be at the same ending," he turned from them, ignoring this outraged glances, and to the remaining three, "I want you to work day in and day out on finding Harry Potter. I don't care if you stop sleeping, eating, and shitting, you will fucking find him for me by Wednesday."

"Sir, that's only two days," one of the men pointed out.

"Do I look like I fucking care how many days that gives you? No, I don't. You should have found him for me four and a half weeks ago. BUT YOU DIDN'T! His bratty ass had been running around England for this whole time, who even knows if he remains in England! I need him found. Check all hotels, airports, shelters, jobs, and…well God damn, every fucking facility. Check them all!"

"Yes sir!"

Marcus smirked, satisfied with himself for the time being. He looked down at the gun in his hands and then to the two men struggling with the now dead body in the doorway and actually smiled. He was powerful. No one controlled him; he controlled every single person that he came in contact with. _He_ was God and he chose who lived and who died. Harry Potter was no exception, as soon as he found that fucking brat, Harry would meet his end. Decisions were left up to Marcus, not Harry.

"Sir! Sir!" A short, rotund man bound into the room, waving pieces of paper at Marcus, pointing to them. Marcus squinted his eyes to see a picture of a man who looked _very_ similar to Tom and some women purchasing food. It was a poor quality photo, but the two in the picture were looking to their sides, as if expecting to be ambushed. _Yes, we've made some accomplishment_, Marcus thought richly, stroking his weapon as he looked past the little man. "It's Tom Riddle!"

"Has he been taken into custody yet?"

"No he has not," the man said, ready to continue but he was cut off by Marcus.

"And why not?" He asked angrily. Why on earth did this little man show him these papers without some substantial news to go with them? So what if they'd spotted Tom? How long ago was the picture taken? Hours…days…weeks? It wasn't anything Marcus wanted.

"The photograph was taken very early this morning, perhaps one in the morning. But we have sent a search team out there to capture him and bring him in. They are searching everywhere in that area. Houses, hotels, bars, shelters…even under bridges. Only a matter of time before they find him!"

"Perfect," Marcus pretty much purred. "Next step, Harry Potter's dead body being thrown into the river."

* * *

_Happiness_. Was this it? The feelings coursing through Harry's body, could they possibly be happy feelings. The emotions that consumed him day in and day out had shifted gears and now, they made him feel good for a change. He felt as if it was okay to not know who are yet, that it was okay to discover it as you lived on. He felt accepted where he was, by people who weren't like him. They couldn't relate to him, but that didn't stop them from loving him. In such a short period of time, they had begun to actually _love_ him. Harry hadn't even thought that you could love a person, after years of knowing them. But he was completely wrong. Ron's family had opened their arms and welcomed him with plenty of food and great stories to tell. Sirius was adamant in getting Harry to live with him and the teen was seriously considering the option. Sirius was his Godfather, why not give someone a shot at be a father figure? What could he possibly lose?

"Harry?" Sirius knocked softly at the door to his current room. He was staying in Ron's old room at the Burrow, though it was fairly small it was perfect for him now. He didn't need expensive things; all he could was ask for a scrap of food and a roof over his head. But the Weasley's didn't leave it at that, they fed him three bountiful meals a day, made sure that he had a room to himself, and let him use all their utilities. He could never repay them for what they'd done for him the past two weeks.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to talk…is that okay?"

"Uh, sure come in." Sirius smiled at him feebly before opening the door all the way and sliding through, shutting it quietly behind him. He sat at the edge of the bed Harry was reclining on and starred at the teen for a few moments silently. "Is there something going on?"

"No," Sirius said with a laugh. He shook his head and looked down, "It's unbelievable."

"What is?"

"That you're here," Sirius began. "I remember when you were just born. James called me from the hospital; I was the first one besides Lily and James to hold you. You were so small, but your eyes were wide and curious. It was great, eyes just like your mother. I was with you a lot, whenever James or Lily couldn't tend to you, I was there. Even if they could, I still would come see you. You're me first and only Godchild and I wanted to make an everlasting imprint in your mind. I wanted you to always remember your Godfather Sirius, I wanted to you to call me Uncle and see me as a second father. Everything was going great…but then the accident…and Vernon…"

"My real uncle?" Harry questioned, he'd heard the name a few times before but never really knew if that was his uncle.

"Yes," Sirius nodded, "he got you. Well, really Petunia got you since she's Lily's sister. But they are messed up people. We thought we'd win a court case to get custody of you and we did, but you weren't at their house! They had been telling us for months that they didn't know where you were but I thought they were just fucking around with us, you know messing with our brains. But all along, they hadn't been lying. There was no trace of you after that. But I never gave up hope. I'd look for you, hoping to recognize you by James' features. I prayed you looked like your father, so that if one day you were out in public, that I'd maybe stumble upon you. But…you were never seen…"

"I was locked up in a house all day, only let out at night to do to my duty," Harry replied stiffly.

"And that sickens me. That...that you call it a _duty_, like it was something that you were required to do in a household like chores. But it wasn't that, it was a sick, vile way to live your life. I just don't understand, why…why you?"

"I ask my self the same question," Harry said silently.

"Why didn't you try and leave?"

It was such a simple question but Harry couldn't bring himself to answer it. He didn't know the answer. He had every opportunity to leave and never turn back, but he didn't. _What kept me there_? Guilt. He felt as if it was his fault his 'dad' was stuck there. He had to redeem their family name in the eyes of his owner and maybe, just maybe he'd be able to get his family out of that hell hole. He didn't know that the stakes were against him. He had no clue that no matter how hard he tried; nothing could get him out of there. The joke was on him, so it seems, because everyone else knew that he was just a misfit, stuck there.

All he could so was shrug hi shoulders at Sirius. "I don't really know why."

"Fair enough," Sirius said this as he rose. He seemed to sense Harry's need to be alone at the moment. He gave Harry a big smile and a hug, "we're all so happy to have you back here with us; where you _belong_."

Harry bit his lip, sustaining his tears. Sirius left as tentatively as he came, and as soon as that door shut, Harry threw himself into the pillows and let out all the tears he'd been running from. He'd never been one to cry growing up; he had to be strong if he wanted to get through everything. But now, all those tears he should have shed in the past were catching up to him and pounding him into the pavement. He gasped for air as he heaved with heavy sobs, fully wailing by now. He cried for the parents who died too young. He cried for all the girls he met in that house, the girls who'd never get to leave. He cried for all the little boys who grew up thinking everything was their fault. He cried for Draco, because he knew it must be hard trying to pretend to be something your not. He cried for Tom, because he tried to save him. And finally, he cried for himself, because no one else would.

* * *

Lunch at the Weasley's was probably the most exciting aspect of Harry's new life. He loved how each Weasley had their own unique development in character. Molly Weasley wasn't you typical mother, though she had strong motherly traits to her, she had a fierce love that burned within her and fueled every action she made. Arthur was just a big goofball, who found joy in the simplicity of things. Then there was Ron, and well he cracked some of the best jokes, whether they were about his wife or his mother, they never failed to make Harry damn near piss his pants. Hermione was such a soothing person that Harry liked to call her mum. And Ginny, Ginny was such a beautiful soul, which allured Harry, and she had such sovereignty to her that he admired her for it. And of course, who could forget Fred and George. They were a pair of five year olds stuck in 21 year old bodies. But the twins had the best practical jokes; so it was no surprise their newly found business was thriving. The Weasley's made him feel at ease, almost like he belonged there with him. Almost…

But Harry knew he'd never actually belong. No matter how comfortable the Weasley's tried to make him, he knew he wasn't family nor did he deserve to be treated like he was. He was a misfit; a little runt that didn't deserve anything more than a beating a day and to be called filth. The Weasley's could try and paint this beautiful picture for him and make him feel at home, but deep down inside he still felt as if the only place he belonged was locked up in that house. He was tainted meat that you couldn't use and had to throw out into the street. He was as worthless as they came and it was only a matter of time before the others realized that.

Nonetheless, Harry let the Weasley's have their fun with him, because it was all he could do. They were just like Hermione and Ron, they'd accepted him the moment they saw him. It was almost as if he'd always known them, because the connection was instantaneous. They fit like a glove.

"Harry?" It seemed Ginny had been trying to get his attention for a while now. He gave her smile as he blushed. He didn't mean to zone off on them.

They were all sitting outside, since it was rather nice out today, at the two picnic tables set up in the yard. Molly was at the grill, yelling at Arthur about something or other, while the twins were scouting the yards for gofers. The family had a terrible gofer infestation in their yard but the twins made the best of it, using the gofers for their experimental pranks. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting at the table together. Ron was patting Hermione's belly, telling his wife a story about his childhood while she just laughed with him. Ginny had joined them only a few minutes ago and Harry could only assume she'd been trying to get his attention since then. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Sure, sounds like fun," he rose from the table, dusting off food crumbs. Ginny smiled at him, flipping her fiery red hair over her shoulder. She flashed him a beautiful smile before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the yard's gate.

For a while they didn't talk, they just walked along in peace. Ginny's hand was still intertwined with Harry's and Harry actually found himself enjoying the feeling. Seeing as his social interaction had been stunted at birth, he never really had the opportunity to hold hands. So, this was a new thing for him and he was growing to like it. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" Ginny stopped him to look into his eyes. She had this smile on her face that made Harry wonder what could possibly make her that happy.

"Are you going to stay with us?"

"I don't know." It was an honest response, but when he saw how her face just dropped he couldn't help but change his answer. "I just mean, I don't know if you're parents are willing to let me stay that long."

"Of course they are, they love you. We all love you."

"I don't know how, I mean you guys barely know me. I'm sure when I've been around longer, you'll see I'm not that cool after all."

"Nonsense," he noticed then just how close to him she was. He went to move backwards, but she grabbed the end of her shirt. "I want you to stay for a while cause…I think I like you."

"Oh." She leaned in and kissed him right on the lips and Harry realized she didn't mean she like his as a friend, but as a _boyfriend_. He didn't want to be rude and pull away, but he just couldn't kiss her. He didn't know her. He had kissed too many people he didn't know in his life time and she was not going to be one of them. When she pulled away and attempted a sexy smile, Harry just blushed and turned from her. "Let's go back to the house."

"Sure."

Harry dropped her hand and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Ginny didn't notice his discomfort and merrily walked in front of him towards her house. The whole walk back to the house, Harry found his mind drifting to the boy he was currently running from.

Draco. He didn't deserve a second of Harry's time, not after he lied to him. Draco was just as bad as Marcus, which said a lot. But, if Draco was so bad, why couldn't Harry stop thinking about him? Ever since he'd gotten to the Burrow, Draco had been all over his mind. He kept wondering if Draco even noticed he left. He wanted to know if Draco cared he was gone. Was Draco going to do anything to find him? Of course not! Harry had to try and bring himself back down to earth, because he was definitely floating in the clouds if he thought Draco gave two shits about him. No one cared about him! NO ONE! But still, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Draco had felt for him…did he care?

He was bonkers to want Draco to care, seeing as he was a little rich brat, but something inside of Harry made him wish that Draco cared. Something deep, down inside Harry was praying Draco felt that connection. Harry had felt it, the second he locked eyes with Draco. It was a tickling sensation inside of him that just made him giggle and smile. He felt like such a girl, having these kind of feelings about a guy, but they made him happy. He forgot about Marcus, Tom, and all of them when he felt like that…all because of Draco! But then Draco crushed those feelings into little specs of dust when he lied about who he was to Harry. Maybe Draco was just having some fun, messing around with Harry's mind. It made sense. Harry was such an easy target to fool, it wouldn't surprise him if that was Draco's intent. It all came together perfectly. And yet, Harry was as big an idiot as they came. He still had those feelings for Draco. He still wanted Draco to look at him like he was the only person on earth. He still _wanted_ Draco.

* * *

"But why Draco?"

It just didn't make sense to him. Blaise had known Draco since they were three years old and he thought he'd known _everything_ about the blond! Turned out, he was wrong. He saw the same person everyone else saw, a positively gorgeous blonde with breathtaking grey eyes. Blaise saw the same party loving, power seeker that had become Draco Malfoy. But he knew that there was more to Draco. He knew that Draco hated being called a brat. He knew that it was impossible to get in Draco's way, because he'd kill you if you tried. What he hadn't known was that Draco was capable of loving someone. It didn't make sense, how could he love someone he barely knew? Was there such thing as love at first sight? Sure, for some people there may be, but this was Draco they were talking about. He wasn't like anyone else.

Blaise was spending the weekend at Draco's while his room was being renovated. Draco had come home from work that night with a crazy smile and a manila envelope. He threw the envelope to Blaise while he got changed and told him to read the contents. Like an obedient friend, Blaise slipped the papers out of the envelope and began to read. There were three pictures, one was an action shot of some boy was crazy hair. The next photo was a wedding picture of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley. The last picture was another action shot, of the same boy with crazy hair walking with Ginny Weasley. None of it made sense to Blaise. Why in the world did Draco have pictures of the Weasley's? Didn't he hate them? And who the hell was the boy? "What's this?"

Draco had been looking at himself in the mirror when Blaise asked the question. He spun around, with the same devious smirk on his face from before, and sauntered over to the bed. He dropped down onto the cushiony mattress and put his hands on Blaise's knees. Blaise bit his tongue, feeling his face burn up at Draco's touch. He damned himself for allowing Draco to get to him so easily. "Have you ever felt so strongly for someone and you just couldn't explain why?"

Blaise only nodded, fearing his voice would give him away.

"Would you do anything for that person?"

"I guess," Blaise didn't understand where this was going. He looked back down at the pictures and then looked to the papers behind them. At the top of one paper, there was a small newspaper clipping with the words 'Potter Family– Died in Car Accident.' Who were the Potters? What did they have to do with anything? "What's going on Draco? Who are the Potters?"

"Well, it's not really who the Potters are but who one Potter is. It says in there, if you read the papers that the whole family died in a car accident. But, in the paper they never said that Harry died, just Lily and James. It seems they didn't know what happened to Harry but they wanted to keep that out of the papers. So, I did a little Nancy Drew-ing and found out that Harry disappeared after the car accident. He was given up to his uncle and aunt, but they some how 'forgot' where he went. Their own son died two months after Harry went missing. And then all of a sudden, Harry turns up in this hotel. MY HOTEL!"

"Draco…" Blaise was looking over his best friend, wondering what in the name of hell had gotten into him. "You're talking crazy talk. Do you hear yourself? Who the fuck is Harry and why is he so important?"

"He's this boy I met," Draco looked at his hands as he started to fiddle his thumbs. "And I can't stop thinking about him."

"Oh."

"But he left the hotel…because of me…"

"What'd you do?" Blaise was very curious as to who this person was. Draco was usually very emotionless and now all of the sudden Draco was showing all these new feelings that Blaise had never seen before. Draco was excited one second, miserable the next, happy one minute after; the range in emotion was never ending. It was actually kind of scary seeing him life this. It was almost as if he did crack, the way he was acting was so out of character. Blaise was used to this stoic guy who made everyone tremble when he was around. And now, _Draco_ was the one weak in the knees.

"I lied to him."

_Why does he sound upset about that? He sounds like he feels…guilty,_ Blaise thought. It was so odd to hear these things coming from Draco's mouth. "So? Not anything new on your part."

"You don't get it Blaise! You've obviously never felt this way about someone!" Draco was now standing up, Blaise hadn't even noticed him move, and he looked pissed as hell. "He's not like everyone else! He doesn't care about money or fashion or anything that happens in our world! He's genuine; he's so perfect…yet not perfect at all, he's got more flaws than me but it works for him. Gods, I can't get him off my mind! I hate this!!"

"None of this makes any sense Draco," Blaise hated to wait for answers. He preferred being told things straightforward. "Why do you have all these papers? What's going on? You're not acting like the Draco I know and love."

Blaise mentally slapped himself for saying that last line. But if Draco noticed it, he didn't care. He was too caught up in his own thought to say anything about it. "I need your help Blaise."

"Okay, that's a start. What for?"

"I need you to help me get him back. I'm going to go find him and woo him."

"Woo him? What the bloody hell does woo mean," Blaise was getting annoyed with this. Draco wasn't supposed to like some new guy; he was supposed to realize how much of a catch _he_ was and date him! Nothing was going according to plan.

"It doesn't matter what the word means! What matters is if you'll help me. Will you please? I have no else to turn to and groveling to you is already ruining my ego enough," Draco was doing something Blaise had never seen before. He was pouting. His eyes were huge and his bottom lip was stuck out in a cute fashion. Blaise damned himself for liking the blonde, because if he hadn't he'd have easily said no. But he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"But why Draco?"

"I trust you."

"Fine, I'll help you."

Draco let out a girlish scream and threw his arms around Blaise and tackled him to the ground. "I could kiss you!" But he didn't. Instead he disentangled himself from Blaise and skipped off towards the bathroom. "We're leaving tomorrow at midnight, after my parents are fast asleep."

Blaise immediately regret his choice. _What in the world was he getting himself into?_

* * *

Fire erupted in the still night. Melissa took in several deep breathes before falling to her knees and thanking god she woke up in time to get out. She looked to her right and saw Tom, face down in the dirt. He wasn't dead but she knew if she didn't get him to a hospital in time, he was a goner. Mustering all the strength she could, she heaved Tom up onto his feet and put his arm around her neck. He was unconscious, so carrying him was carrying dead weight but she didn't care. She had to get him out of there. Whoever just tried to kill them was sure to turn up any second.

The town they had crushed in was full of homeless people, just like them. It smelt of piss and vomit and she hated it. It didn't make sense that she wound up living like this. Running from a man as powerful as God was not what she pictured her life to be like. She used to be in all the ballets, one of the best dancers in all of England. How did she fall so low? _Men, _she thought nastily,_ they always fuck you over._ If she hadn't dated that stupid coke addict all those years ago, just like now, she'd never have lost her perfect life. Why did she always fall for the most fucked up, deranged people? Why couldn't she meet a sweet guy, a prince? Hell, she'd be happy if she met a cute guy who didn't do drugs, he didn't need to be rich. But she was such a sucker for men.

Even though Tom had lost weight since they'd left, she didn't think she could support his weight. He was too heavy for her to carry. She just had to rest, for one minute. Seeing a park bench, she took the opportunity to set Tom down and get a moments rest. Closing her eyes, she pictured a life where she was happy and with a guy who knew how to treat her right. At first, she'd pictured Tom being that guy because he knew how to treat a woman. But the man beside her wasn't Tom anymore; he was just a shell of a man.

Everything went silent, which was always a bad sign. _FUCK!_ She opened her mouth to scream, but someone immediately put a cloth over her face and everything went blurry before she was out.

**Author's Second Note**: I'm currently sitting at 79 reviews, if I some how got 100 reviews over this chapter, I'd be the happiest little writer. I don't want to promise anything, but I'm just saying I know I'd be a little more motivated to get the next chapter out!!!


	7. AN

**Authors Note...Again**:

I don't know why it's saying there's a chapters 7 & 8, but there aren't. The new chapter is chapter SIX, so go read it guys! It should start out from Marcus's POV. If not, let me know.


	8. Slow Down

Save Me

_**Save Me**_

**Author:** dress up romance xx

**Beta**: I need one!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter! Not one bit!

**Summary**: NONMAGIC! After his parent's death, Harry is given over to his only remaining relatives. But his drug-addicted uncle sells him to a child sex-ring for drug money, leaving Harry alone in the world of prostitution, drugs, and abuse. After 19 years of being someone else's property, Harry escapes his dirty past. Can he hide from them for long? HPDM!!

**Authors Note**: So, I kind of have a really good idea for this chapter. We may get some DRACO and HARRY time! I'm not sure yet. I really don't want to rush their relationship, I already feel like it was rushed at the beginning. A lot is going to happen in this chapter though, so buckle up and ENJOY THE RIDE!!

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

I need a little time, to see what you're made of  
I know whats on your mind  
You're headin' straight for love  
Let's not rush, you're moving way too fast  
We can figure it out, we can make this last  
We don't have to be so serious  
You need to  
S l o w d o w n  
_Aly & AJ_

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

It was now a half hour past twelve and Lucius Malfoy was still awake. Draco cursed his father for pushing his departure back. The elder Malfoy was reading over something in his study, making notations in his little black book and clicking his tongue every so often. Just as Draco thought his father would never turn in, Lucius rose from his chair, turned out all the lights and made his way to the room he shared with his wife. Draco waited ten or so minutes, to make sure he heard his father's snoring before returning to his room. Blaise was asleep on his bed, trying to get as much rest prior to their escape so he wouldn't be a zombie the whole trip. Draco still couldn't believe he actually convinced Blaise to help him get another guy. He knew how much Blaise liked him and he was surprised Blaise hadn't damned the idea. But nonetheless, his childhood best friend stood by his side when it came to all his crazy ideas, so why not this one?

Draco chose to take this time to make sure they had all they were going to need. In his duffle bag, he had his phone, his father's keys to the family Lexus, two wallets full of money, a bottle of water, directions to and from the Weasley's home, a wig, three changes of clothes, a make-up kit, and a box full of fake piercings. Blaise's bag was pretty similar to his own, except he didn't have any make-up in his. They had pretty much everything they were going to need, so he decided it was the right time to wake his friend.

Blaise was a good looking bloke. His brunette hair was sexily tousled in front of his eyes, a little messed up now from his slumber. He had auburn eyes that could nearly make a man melt upon seeing them, especially when they were paired with that devious grin he almost always wore. From his tan skin to his perfectly chiseled jaw and high cheek bones, you could easily tell he was wealthier than most and loved to flaunt it. Draco had always been attracted him, wondering what it would be like to just kiss him, but he never did. Something he couldn't understand held him back from doing it up until now, now it was Harry who kept him from leaping into Blaise's open arms. Harry was just so damn cute and beat Blaise's sexy appeal without even trying. But still, he couldn't help but wonder if those lips were as soft as they looked. _Snap out of it!_ Draco smacked his own cheek, blushing at the fact he was starring down at his own friend and getting turned on.

"Blaise!" Draco called out once, but the other teen didn't move at all. So he called out again. And again. Twice more he called out, but it was useless. So, he did the only thing he thought would work. Draco plopped down onto the bed beside Blaise and leant close to the others neck and began to place delicate kisses upon it. Blaise instantly stirred and he let out a soft moan before turning to meet Draco's lips. This wasn't what Draco intended upon doing, but something in him snapped. It felt so good to kiss someone; he hadn't in so long that he'd begun to feel like a leper. Blaise seemed to reciprocate the feelings of needing this kiss but Draco had to break it. What was he doing?! He wanted HARRY! Not Blaise! He'd devised this whole secret mission to get Harry and all of the sudden he was making out with Blaise on his bed. "We leave in five, get ready."

"We're still going," Blaise asked groggily. "But why?"

"What do you mean why? We spent all this time planning how everything would go down and all of the sudden; you think we're just not going? Blaise, be honest with yourself."

"I just thought…well, I mean we just…you know. I guess it didn't mean what I thought it did."

"Exactly. Now, come on. Stop wasting time, we've already done enough of that."

Blaise just obeyed the command; there was no point in arguing. He knew he wasn't going to win this one.

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

Harry was up, once again, because sleep just could not find him. It was early, he didn't know how early, but the sun wasn't out yet. The sky was a pinkish color, so he could only assume he'd be able to get to watch the sun rise. In the time he'd spent at the Weasley home, he'd spent most of his mornings just like this one. Wandering the grounds, looking for somewhere to sit and think. He liked to reflect how the previous day went and what he wanted to come out of the new day. Like yesterday, now that was an experience.

First off, Ginny had been all over him the entire day. She had this huge crush on him and it was flattering, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell her that he wasn't really interested. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful or that he wasn't sexually attracted to her, because he was, very much so. No, it was the fact that he couldn't get over_ himself_ and how she'd react to him when she saw what he really was. He knew, that in a matter of no time she'd see him for exactly what he was: sloppy-seconds. He didn't want to get attached to her and wind up being disappointed and heart broken when she left him. He wasn't readily going to set himself up for heartache; he'd had enough of it already in his short life.

Then, Hermione finally admitted to her pregnancy. She told them she was about three months along. Everyone was all over her, asking millions of questions about whether or not she knew the gender of the baby or if it was twins. She refused to give out any information; she told them it was going to be a surprise.

It was so exciting being involved in something as special as pregnancy, Harry felt lucky to be with them all. But, lately his mood had dropped. While he saw how happy the Weasley's were, he realized how fucked up his life actually was. This little running away idea had been great at first, but it was becoming quite obvious that he couldn't run for long. Marcus would find and kill him, sooner or later. He already had a strange feeling that Marcus had found Tom and his girlfriend. But that didn't really concern Harry, seeing as they'd been lying to him all along.

One thing that seriously ate away at him was Draco. Every damn day he thought about that stupid, self centered blonde and each day he found another reason to hate him. But his heart wouldn't agree with his brain. He'd fallen for Draco the second he met him and there was no reversing that. No matter how bad Draco had hurt him, he'd still love the stupid git. It was just another defect about him. He was as stubborn as they came. It was a miracle he lived up until, literally. Harry was counting the days until he was killed for some reason or other. Whether it be his fucked up mind got to him or Marcus had him burned from his head to his toes, Harry didn't expect his life to be much longer. It wasn't the most positive outlook on life for a 19 year old boy, but it was the only truthful thing left in his life.

Pain consumed her entire being. As hard as she tried to kick, scream and thrash away this searing pain, she could not. Melissa was consumed by all of it. Opening her eyes, she was blinded by a white light. It took moments for her eyes to adjust to its brightness, but when they finally did she shut them tight again after seeing where she was. She was tied to a chair, in an abandoned warehouse. In front of here was a long conveyer belt, with two bright white lights behind it, everything else was blacked out. At one end of the belt was a man standing next to a lever, on the belt laid another man, and at the end of the belt was a huge blade. _Oh my god_, she started mentally panicking. The man lying on the belt was Tom, she just _knew _it.

"Good morning sleepyhead," a somber voice sounded through the room. "So nice of you to join us. We've been waiting up for you."

"What are you doing? Is this Marcus?" She was already crying. They were going to kill Tom, right in front of her.

"Well, aren't you just a smart cookie Melissa. Daniel, please make sure she keeps her eyes open. We wouldn't want her missing the show we've prepared for her."

"Of course Marcus," the man at the end of the belt turned around and walked into the darkness. A moment later he returned with a staple gun and made his way over to Melissa. He smirked at her before saying, "you may feel a slight pinch."

He grabbed her head tight in his hands and pulled her left eyelid open. He took the staple gun to her eyelid and stapled it to her eyebrow. Never in her life had she _ever_ screamed so loud out of agony. She couldn't even feel anything else but her eyelid, it hurt so badly. Tears and blood poured down her face while he took her right eyelid and stapled it to her eyebrow. She went to turn her head away but it was held in place. They were forcing her to watch.

"Let her calm down a little bit before starting, okay Daniel?" And he did as he was told. Melissa tried to keep screaming, she tried to keep fighting her restraints, but she didn't have it in her. When she started to calm down, Daniel came back at her with a huge needle and stuck her right in the arm. "This will keep you calm Melissa, it's a musle relaxant. You'll feel a little woozy, but you'll be able to watch the show without your rude disruptions."

"You're fucking sick," was all she could muster to say to him, but he it meant nothing to Marcus. He only laughed it off while he waited for the real fun to begin.

"May the show begin!"

Daniel ripped the lever down and slowly, everything started to move. The belt was reeling Tom back towards the swing blade just as Tom seemed to be waking up. He was naked, tied down at his wrists and ankles. When he saw what was coming, he began to scream and flail but his efforts were as fruitless as Melissa's had been.

"Stop it please," Melissa cried out. But no one listened. The blade came crashing down on Tom's ankles, blood spurting everywhere as he shrieked in horror. Again and again the blade came down on him; his tears and his movements became wilder and wilder. The laughter of Marcus and Daniel filled the air. All of the sounds devoured Melissa and she became lost to it. Her brain turned off as soon as she saw Tom's neck, sliced by the blade. Everything went black again.

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

They'd been driving in silence for hours now. Draco was focusing on his driving while Blaise intently studied his fingers. The kiss was a mistake; Draco knew this but Blaise wasn't letting that thought into his mind. If it was a mistake, then why did Draco seem to want it as bad as he did? Maybe it was all in his head, maybe Draco was just shocked at first and that's why he didn't stop. None of it made much sense, but that was the thing about Draco. He was such an enigma, just when you were convinced you had him all figured out, he swerved right and did something crazy and different.

"Did you bring any smokes?" Blaise's head snapped up when he realized the question was directed at him._ Obviously, you're the only other person in the car._

"Uh, I don't think so. Can I turn on the radio?" Draco only nodded. So, Blaise fiddled with the dial for a while before picking a station with some American band playing. The tune was a catchy one that made him start humming and bouncing about in his seat, totally killing the previous mood. Song after song, Blaise entertained himself by singing and dancing in the passenger seat. It was a fun thing but in the middle of one song, Draco turned the radio off and looked at him.

"We're here."

It wasn't the house in the pictures, or a house at all, but a small hotel. It actually didn't even look open, but that didn't stop Draco from pulling into the dimly lit parking lot and parking by a dumpster. He turned the car off and hoped out, opening the trunk and to pull out their bags. Blaise was still sitting in the car, very skeptical about the place they were at. It was still pretty dark out, probably around 5 in the AM. They hadn't left Draco's until 1 and had to stop numerous times so Blaise could pee and get food.

"Get out of the car," Draco was banging at the window now. Blaise didn't feel like arguing about Draco's crazy idea, so he just got out and followed Draco to the back door of the building. It was locked, just as he expected it to be. Seems like Draco knew that too, because he pulled out a crow bar and slammed it down on the lock and the door swung open.

"Why does this not feel right?"

"Because it isn't."

"So why are we doing it? Why aren't we staying at a nice, comfy hotel like Malfoy Manor? This place is visibly run down. Meaning, we shouldn't be in here!"

"We can't stay in an actual hotel. I have my dad's card, so he'd be able to trail me if we stay at a regular hotel. I had my spy scout this place out, he said it's decent. It has only been out of business for a year or so."

"You have a spy? Since when?"

"That's besides the point Blaise, just follow me."

Draco led the way, knowing Blaise would follow. They walked up the cramped servant stairs of the hotel. The stripped wallpaper was curling off the walls. Besides that, the place didn't look rundown. Actually, Blaise had seen motels that looked worse than this and _were_ open. Draco was making his way through a hall on the third floor, Blaise directly behind him, when he came to a stop in front of a giant door. Blaise walked right into him, earning himself an evil glare from Draco. "This is our room."

With that said, Draco pushed the door open to reveal a room with teal wallpaper and three windows. Two windows were placed on opposite sides of the large mahogany bed with white drapes around it. Underneath each window was an old fashioned white furnace, neither of them seemed to be on. Over in the far left corner, was the remaining window that fell beside a marble fireplace. At the foot of the bed was an oak chest with two white blankets folded neatly over it. Pictures of the countryside were hung up on the walls in order of oldest to newest. All in all, the room looked as if it was taken care of every single day.

"Are we sleeping here, or just getting ready?"

"Getting ready, there's no time to sleep. We're already off schedule. Do you know what you're supposed to look like?"

"Like an American guy who claims to be a full-blooded Italian, I think the name was Gui-toe?" Blaise said proudly. Draco only laughed at his friend before he proceeded to get ready. Draco threw his duffle bag onto the bed so he could take his clothes off.

They prepared in silence. After thirty minutes or so, the sun had risen and they were ready to leave. Draco gelled his regular locks down to his head and bobby pinned any fly-aways down as well. He wore a black wig with long curls. The hair of the wig fell to the area just above his butt. He already looked a little like a woman, with his pale features and high cheek bones. So all he had to really do was do his make up and wear girl's clothing. He wanted to look so much like a woman that men would hit on him, to completely throw off the idea he was a guy. He'd taken some of his mother's clothes in order to pull off this scam. He had on a bra of hers, stuffed it, and put a tight red half shirt over the bra. To accentuate his long, thin legs he wore a pair of black Jimmy Choo's and a mini skirt to match the heels. He looked in the room's only mirror and smiled. If he wasn't gay, he'd so fuck himself.

Blaise on the other hand, had an easy task. All he had to do was throw on white tank top, black baggy pants, gel his hair up, and throw a head band on. But he wanted to add a little something to his character, so he also wore wristbands and put a fake earring in. He nailed his part as well. "So, what's the plan?"

"We're going to pull up to the house and crash into a tree. I'll say you were teaching me to drive and I hit the gas instead of breaks. Easy as cake."

"Whatever you say."

Draco picked up the pocketbook he'd taken from his mother's collection and snatched his father's keys. Before walking back out into the slightly chilly weather, he wrapped one of his mother's many white silk dress coats around himself. Lucius would kill him once he found out what Draco was about to do. But that didn't faze Draco. Instead, he pulled Blaise along and out of the room. They exited the building, as unnoticed as they came. Throwing on a pair of Chanel sunglasses, Draco hopped into the driver's seat and waited while Blaise loaded the trunk. As soon as his 'boyfriend' sat down, Draco pulled out and sped off.

It was only a few minutes before they pulled in front of the Weasley house. Draco stopped the car for a moment, mustering all the balls he had before slamming on the gas and directing the car into the nearest tree. The sound of the car crashing exploded in the early morning air. It only took fifty seconds for everyone in the Weasley house to come piling out to see what had happened. Draco felt weak, not from an injury but from being so afraid. He saw his life flash before his eyes in that moment and he swore he was going to die. "Fucking shit, you okay Blaise?"

"Yeah," his friend breathed out. They were both fine, just scared out of their fucking minds. "Next time you ask me to help you with something, remind me to say no way in fucking hell."

"Okay," Draco looked behind the car, the whole Weasley herd was approaching. "Ready to face them?"

"As ready as I'll ever be…"

"Good, put your sunglasses on."

Before Blaise could retort, Draco swung his door open and fell out the side and onto the ground. The whole Weasley family had an immediate reaction to this and sprinted forward. The eldest female, Molly Weasley was on her knees holding Draco's cheeks in her hands. "Are you okay deary?"

Draco coughed and looked up, past her, and sported him. Harry was standing back, away from the whole crowd. He had his arms crossed and was shivering. He was looking down at Draco, almost as if he recognized him, but their eye connection was broken when a very flustered looking Hermione knelt down in front of him. "What happened?"

Blaise made his appearance at this moment, opening his door and falling out as well. Ginny jumped at the opportunity to help and went to him. She cradled his head in her lap for a minute, asking him all sorts of random questions. Everyone was screaming commands to each other at this point, when the oldest male put his hands in the air and yelled. "HOLD ON!"

Everyone froze. He dropped his arms, "Why don't we bring them into the house and ask them what happened?"

"Of course, come along deary," Molly said while standing. Draco took this time to look towards Blaise to see how he was holding up. Blaise seemed to enjoy the attention Ginny was giving him as they walked to the house. _Figures_, Draco thought nastily.

It took a little bit for every to settle down around the table, but eventually all the focus came back to Draco and Blaise. They looked to one another, nodding in silent agreement that Draco would talk and Blaise would nod his head and put in the occasional 'yeah.'

Draco cleared his throat and prepared himself for the best performance of his life. Not even trying to, he threw on a heavy Italian accent and girlified his voice. "You see, Emilio and I were driving to my father's country house, it's only a few miles from your house, so I asked if I could drive. I've never driven before, so he said sure. He's been promising to teach me for months now. We got out of the car and switched places a mile back and I started to drive. I was doing well at first. But I guess I'm just a terrible learner, because as we were passing your lovely home, there was a cat in the street and he told me to stop, but I hit the gas by accident and had to swerve to avoid the cat and well… I wound up hitting your tree."

Everyone looked to one another at the table, no one knowing what to say. So Molly spoke. "Oh, that's quite interesting. Actually…it's a little bit funny."

"I guess you're right," Draco shrugged, laughing a little.

"You two are alright, of course?" Hermione half-asked, half-stated. Draco simply nodded at this. "Well, that's what really matters."

"Poor car," Fred said with a chuckle. "It may never recover."

"It was only a summer car, anyway," Blaise shrugged. His accent wasn't as developed as Draco's but it was moderately convincing. "I guess we'll need a tow, won't we?"

"I better call your father," Draco announced. "May I use your phone Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Weasley, but you can call me Molly," She said with a hearty grin.

"Well then, may I use your phone for a moment?"

"Of course sweet heart, follow me."

"Actually, Emilio," Draco directed the conversation at Blaise, "why don't you make the calls? You know more about the damage than I do."

"Of course, darling." Blaise scooted his chair back and then proceeded in following Molly out of the room.

During this, everyone rested their gaze on Draco. Hermione rested her elbows on the table as she starred at him. "So, we know your boyfriends name, what's your name?"

"Oh," Draco almost forgot the name she'd picked, "I'm Alessandra Brunela, lot's of people call me Ally though."

"Nice to meet you Ally," Hermione seemed to be the welcoming commity, "I'm Hermione, this is my husband Ron, that's his sister Ginny, his twin brothers Fred and George—

"George and Fred," Fred corrected her while pointing to his twin then himself.

"George and Fred, sorry," Hermione corrected herself, "That's their father Arthur and last but not least, our new friend Harry."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"So, you're in England for what reason? You two are obviously Italian," Ginny pointed out.

"Emilio's father owns a ranch only a few miles away, we were visiting him. We would have flown, like usual, but I really was tired of the airlines and all the waiting, so we chose to take a nice scenic route though the country."

"Have you lived in Italy your whole life? You speak English very well." Fred asked.

"I lived in England when I was 15 until I was 17, then I moved back to my parent's home in Sicily until I was 21. Now Emilio and I live together in Italy. I still visit England very often, seeing as Emilio's father lives here. Thank you; I pride myself on being able to speak English, French, and Italian."

"How lovely," Ginny said.

"Tesoro1" Blaise called from the doorway.

"Sì orso2?" Draco spun around in his chair to face Blaise, he was frowning at Draco. "Che cosa è errato3?"

"Colloquio venuto a me in riservato4," Blaise motioned towards a different room.

"Naturalmente5," Draco then turned back to the group who was now looking at them in confusion. "I'll be right back."

Draco hurried into the other room, to find Blaise starring at his cell phone. "We're on the news," his voice was very soft. "Your father reported us to the police as missing, along with the car. He didn't think we took it, he thinks we've been kidnapped…"

"My father is pretty thick then," Draco laughed.

"It's not funny! My mother keeps calling my cell every other second, what do I do? Answer the phone and end this thing—

"NO!" Draco screamed.

"Everything okay in there," Molly called.

"We're fine," Draco said while poking his head into the dining room. "Emilio just told I'm never allowed to drive again."

"That may be a safe thing," George announced. Everyone at the table laughed, forcing Draco to smile.

"Of course, excuse me," Draco then went back to the situation at hand with Blaise. "I haven't even talked to him yet! He's just sitting there, looking all broken and sad. I need at least a minute alone with him. "Well hurry, or else my mother will have a heart attack over this. Plus, I'm sure your father is going to kill you over this."

"Yea, I can kiss getting off of this punishment goodbye. I'm going to be working at the hotel for the rest of my life," Draco sighed. "But Harry's worth it."

"I sure hope so, but if this doesn't work out between you two Draco, I'll kill you."

"I doubt that, you love me too much." Draco and Blaise both shared a laugh. "I almost forgot you knew Italian."

"We took it together in school Draco."

"Oh yea. Well, I better get back to them. Don't blow our cover!"

"I'll try."

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

The family eventually settled down after an hour or so. The Weasley's decided to part ways, leaving only Molly with the two new strangers in the kitchen. Harry disappeared up the stairs, and from the angle Draco was sitting at he could see Harry walk into the first room on the left. This was his perfect chance to talk to Harry alone! Everyone else had gone completely opposite ways; the closest person to him was Arthur, who'd gone up two flights of stairs. Aside from him, everyone else had scattered on the first floor. If Draco didn't seize this chance right now, he'd be a total idiot. As fast as he could, he jumped from his seat at the dining room table and grabbed the little white purse he had brought with him.

"Excuse me, but where is your bathroom," he asked politely. Blaise starred at him for a moment, but Draco nodded his head in the direction Harry had left while he mouthed the boy's name.

"Up the stairs, it's the second door on the right. Be careful with the door, it tends to get a little stuck," Molly said, never turning around, while she tended to a dish.

Blaise gave Draco the thumbs up. The natural blonde took in a deep breathe before entering a situation that could make or break his relationship with Harry. The walk to Harry's room seemed to never end. It may have been because he was walking slower than ever before or the fact time seemed to stand still whenever things dealt with Harry. Either way, Draco's heart didn't stop its hasty beating. When his hand landed on the cool metal of the door knob, Draco imagined all the possible outcomes of this and not many of them looked good. He pictured Harry going postal and throwing things at him as he screamed for all the Weasley's to come and protect him. Or maybe Harry would cry and tell him he was the biggest fucking arse he'd ever met and he never wanted to see him again. Maybe Harry wouldn't talk at all; maybe he'd just kill Draco as soon as he showed himself. Though, there was that small, sliver of a chance Harry would forgive Draco. It was a stretch to believe that maybe Harry would accept his apology and actually be happy that he'd come all this way to get him. But this was something Draco never would find out until he opened the door and faced what was bound to come.

He slipped into the room fast, locking the door behind him. Harry was hovering over something in the corner of the room. Draco had to crane his neck in order to see Harry was doing something to his arm. When Draco took in another one of those deep breaths, Harry turned around shocked and dropped something to the floor. What happened next went by so fast, Draco didn't even realize it. Harry's arms were covered in blood and when he saw Draco, he freaked and tried to jump out the window, so Draco had to run and pull him back and onto the bed. Harry began to thrash and scream and cry all at once and the blonde didn't know what to do to stop him, so he kissed him. After a minute, Harry ended his violent movement and went still. Draco let go of him and looked down to see Harry's face completely blank. Draco removed the wig he'd been wearing and Harry just starred at him in dismay.

"What have you done," Draco asked, his voice full of fear, while he starred down at Harry's bloodied arms. It seemed that they were self-inflicted wombs. He counted five deep lacerations in total.

"I knew it was you…I just felt it," Harry sobbed. "The second you looked up at me after you fell out of the car.

Draco had never dealt with anyone else's tears before. Sure, Pansy had whined and bitched at him plenty of times, but it was over nothing. Right now, he was clueless as to what would have caused Harry to go fanatical like this. He tried to kill himself! It couldn't have been because of Draco, could it? If so, Draco never would be able to live with himself knowing that Harry felt that deeply over his presence.

"You wouldn't get it Draco," Harry seemed to be gathering what little dignity and sanity he had left, "your life is perfect. You have everything you could ask for, but you feel like you have to pretend and lie to people who actually trusted you. Did you know that you were the first person, in my _life_ that I actually believed to be genuine? I have such shitty judgment."

"I never meant for this happen Harry!"

"Yea, I get that. I was never supposed to find out that you were Draco bloody Malfoy! Too bad I would have eventually figured it out, I'm not fully retarded you know!"

"I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you!"

"It's a little too late now, isn't it?" Harry was moving farther and father away from him now. "How did you find me? I thought I really was getting away by coming here, but you found me. This means there is only a matter of time before _he_ finds me."

"Who," Draco questioned, confused by Harry's crazed state of mind.

"Marcus Hopkins."

"Who the fuck is Marcus Hopkins."

Harry sighed, starring Draco directly in his stormy grey eyes, "My _pimp_…the man I've been running from."

**HPDMHPDMHPDMHPDMHPDM**

CLIFFHANGER MUCH?! Got a little sadistic with Melissa and Marcus, didn't it? Of well! Hopefully that was a good enough chapter update that you all can forgive me for such a long wait. Well, I didn't get the 100 reviews I was hoping for, BOO HOO, but I did get 96 before I finished this. Yay! Next post will be out…whenever, no promises on dates. Like I've said before, lots of reviews will make me work faster. I'm hoping for 120, that'd be absolutely perfect if I got that. If not, oh well, but I can hope! If I get that many and more, you'll get and extra treat next chapter!! Looking for a beta, BTW!!

1 - Means _darling_ in Italian; gotten from WordLingo.

2 – Means _yes bear_ in Italian; same as above.

3 – Means _what's wrong_ in Italian: same.

4 – Means _come talk to me in private_ in Italian: same same!

5 – Means _of course_ in Italian; same same same!!


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